


Treasure

by Storyofmythigh



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Archaeology, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-03-26 18:45:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19011688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storyofmythigh/pseuds/Storyofmythigh
Summary: While attending a field school for archaeology, Louis finds a treasure greater than anything he's ever dug up before.orHarry and Louis get off on the wrong foot, but between the rain, the equipment tent, and the baby animals, they manage to find something truly precious.





	1. Chapter 1

Louis’s been staying in the hostel for two weeks already by mid-June, feeling settled in for another summer of mud, rocks, worms, bones, and most importantly, treasure. They aren’t actually supposed to call it treasure, of course, but even their professors whisper it under their breath to each other when they’re out digging together in the trench. It wouldn’t seem like treasure to most people; a lot of what they find is just random bits of iron and sometimes pieces of bone tools. Every now and then, however, someone finds something really good, like when Niall had discovered a silver coin last year. They’re digging in the same fort again this summer in a section just adjacent to where they’d dug last year, so Louis knows he’s in for quite a bit of animal bone again. He doesn’t mind not always finding something precious. Mostly, he just loves the thrill of finding anything, of being allowed to take part in piecing together the happenings of ancient history.

That being said, not every day is amazing. In fact, some days are quite difficult to get through, especially since they’re digging for about 6 or 7 hours a day. Today, the rain is relentless, and they’re all filthy by the time they’ve hung their rain gear by the lockers and piled into the bus taking them back to the hostel in a nearby village. Dr. Fielding waves them off from inside the classroom as Dr. Slater sets to work sorting their equipment behind him. Exhausted, Louis sinks into his seat, feeling only a little guilty for how damp his work clothes still are. Niall leans his head on his shoulder, also drained. In the middle row in front of them, Liam and Katie stare out of the windows. In the very front, Zayn chats politely and quietly to their driver, Ellen. Everyone’s a bit out of it at this point, happy for the weekend to begin but dreading the thought of more rain and work early Monday morning (although Louis knows they’ll be charged up again and ready for it when the time rolls around).

Ellen drops them off at the hostel after their short ride, and the group clambers upstairs, ready to shower before dinner at the pub next door. Katie slips into her room (she’s got the only single because she’s currently the only girl attending the field school) while the boys flop down onto their bunks, save for Liam, who’s finally cycled back to having the first shower.

Louis’ ready to nap for a bit, knowing that he’s last in line for the shower, when Niall peeks down from the top bunk to ask him if he’s still got his phone charger. Louis groans, knowing that he’d left it in the common room that morning, tucked behind a copy of _The Girl on the Train_ on the bookshelf. He forces himself up, muscles sore all over and skin still damp and cold, shuffling back downstairs.

He’s got the phone charger in hand and is ready to head back up and toss it at Niall’s blond head when the front door clicks open, letting in the sound of pouring rain, and a boy walks in, pulling a large suitcase and struggling to keep a bag on his shoulder. He’s soaked to the bone, teeth chattering as he pulls his hood down, revealing long, wet hair. Louis’s struck by how green his eyes are, how pink his lips look while the rest of his face is rain-pale. He almost misses the boy’s question due to the electricity running through his veins. 

“Sorry, do you know if Mary’s here? I think I’m supposed to check in with her.”

Louis pull himself together and glances into Mary’s empty office; she’s rarely at the hostel, usually tending the bar at the pub during these hours. He turns back to the shivering, angelic boy, noticing the university sweater he’s wearing. “No, she’s probably next door right now. Are you here for the field school, by any chance?” He didn’t know that they were supposed to get anyone new this week, but it’s entirely possible that he’d been told and just hadn’t been paying attention.

The boy nods. “Yeah, ‘m Harry.” 

Liam, freshly clean and glowing from the hot water, suddenly appears next to Louis. “Hey, Lou. Niall said you’d come down and-” He stops, noticing Harry. “Oh, are you Harry? Mary said to keep an eye out for you. You must be freezing!” 

Harry nods a little, looking just a tad pathetic. “Just a little, yeah.” 

“I can show you upstairs. Mary said you’re in with us, we’ve still got some empty beds. You might have to fight for the shower right now, sorry. We just got in ourselves.”

Louis watches Harry follow Liam upstairs, watches Liam help him with his bag, and although he knows that Liam’s straight and just quite earnestly friendly, he can’t help feeling that he’s just had something lovely stolen from him, like treasure ripped out of his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

Louis dashes through the shower when it’s his turn, just making sure he’s got most of the mud off of his hands, sweat out of his hair, and some feeling back in his feet. Zayn had let Harry in before him, despite Harry’s polite protests, and Louis had been forced to cram all of his cleaning into two minutes if he wanted to make it to dinner in time to not get teased by Mary and her sister, Jackie, who ran the pub.

His hair’s still dripping when he joins them at their usual table in the back. Niall’s telling some outlandish tale over his beer, keeping the boys and Katie laughing. Harry’s finally drying off a little, looking warm and rosy as he sips his drink, eyes locked on Niall with a quiet amusement. Louis wants Harry to look at him like that. 

Mary finds her way over to them soon enough, resting a warm hand on Louis’ shoulder. He’s always grateful to see her. She nags them, but really, she cares, trying to subtly mother them through their hard days.

“And how was the fort today?” She looks around the table, not even giving time for an answer when she sees Harry. “Oh! We’ve got a new one today, I’d forgotten. You must be Harry, I assume?”

Harry nods, shaking her hand when it’s offered. “Yes, are you Mary?”

She nods proudly. “Are the boys taking care of you so far? Boys and Katie, sorry Katie. Everyone’s playing nice?”

They roll their eyes affectionately, but confirm that yes, they’re treating Harry well. She stays to chat for a moment and only leaves them when the bar starts looking hectic again, jumping back in beside Jackie. Fridays in the village are always busy. One of the other girls working brings their food out quickly enough, and Louis finally starts to warm up for the first time all day, still just a tad cranky from working so hard and showering so late. It helps that a cute boy's shown up.

Everyone’s fascinated with Harry, the same way they always are when someone new shows up, but Harry seems to feel as quiet as Louis wants to be tonight. He answers questions politely and listens genuinely, smiling big and laughing whenever someone says something particularly ridiculous, but he still seems a little shy. When he does talk, it’s not to Louis, although Louis guesses that’s because he’s not exactly initiating the conversation either.

Their eyes keep meeting across the table, though, but each time, Harry lets his eyes fall back down to his plate, immediately disengaging. Louis doesn’t know if it’s because Harry’d met him while he was still gross in his work clothes or because he hadn’t been captain of the welcoming committee like Liam had, but in fairness, he hadn’t had a proper chance. He wants to talk to Harry when they’re reset tomorrow, rested and clean, but right now, all he can do is stare at his drying curls in the dim lighting of the pub and wonder why Harry seems to dislike him compared to all the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters will be getting longer, they're just a little short now while everything's starting. Hope you enjoy <3


	3. Chapter 3

They’d all mostly slept hard the night before, especially after a few rounds of drinks to celebrate Harry’s arrival, and it was only mildly painful for them to wake up early to Ellen backing the bus in, ready to take them out on their day trip of the week. Most Saturdays, they’re scheduled to go to some old castle, some ancient tomb, or some ruins. It’s always fun and doesn’t usually require too much effort, giving them a nice break from spending all day on their knees in the trench. Louis always enjoys the trips, but today, he wakes up still tired, the only person who hadn’t slept well at all. Zayn only barely manages to drag him outside before Ellen drives off without him.

Katie sits up front today, excitedly talking to Ellen about the portal tomb they’re visiting first before spending the afternoon on a tour of church ruins a county over. Niall and Harry sit the back, talking easily. Harry’s gotten over some of his shyness, apparently. Still, when Louis climbs in next to Zayn and accidentally meets his eyes, Harry looks down, as if bothered by him. Louis pretends to ignore it along with the small zing of energy that crawls up his spine.

He stares out the window during the drive, only almost drifting off a few times, lulled to sleep by the passing greenery. Liam shoves him when the bus stops, and Louis blearily pulls the door open, sliding out to let the others out. Katie’s already talking to the tour guide they’re meeting, not waiting for everyone to catch up with her. Niall crawls out last, after Harry finally managed to get his long legs out and onto solid ground. Louis steps closer to Zayn to give them all room to gather around the guide while she introduces herself and the tomb they’re going to be visiting.

Louis can already see it in the distance, and he starts to feel awake for the first time all morning. This is what he’s here for, to immerse himself in ancient artefacts and sites. He lives for this. Nothing excites him more, except for maybe discovering something at their dig site at the fort.

“Does anyone know what qualifies as a portal tomb?”

Louis does, but he’s slow in the morning, so it’s easy for Harry to beat him to it. He bites his lip in frustration while Harry’s slow voice hesitantly explains his understanding.

“They have two upright stones under the capstone, so it looks like a doorway, or a portal.”

Their guide (Louis hadn’t caught her name) smiles widely. “Exactly! Does anyone know a feature that’s present today in some, but not all portal tombs?”

Louis speaks up quickly this time. “Some still have door slabs, but not all of them. Some have been removed so people could get into the tomb.”

The guide nods brightly. “Perfect! It seems you’ve all studied up on this before today.”

She talks them through their walk as they begin to actually approach the tomb, following a short gravel trail before stepping out amongst large rocks and deep grass, getting closer to the small crowd of tourists gathered around the tomb. Niall’s got his phone out, already recording their journey so he can send the video to his mum later when they have access to Wi-Fi again.

They get some free time to walk around and observe the tomb and the landscape when their guide finishes up her talk. Louis tries to grab Niall, knowing that he’s often more fun than Zayn and Liam tend to be during these trips, but Niall’s stuck to Harry’s side, not even noticing Louis trying to get his attention. He only pouts a little before stalking off on his own to look at the tomb.

He’s calmer once he approaches the thin ropes surrounding it, soothed by being in the presence of something so ancient, frozen in history. He imagines the process of constructing the tomb, wondering how anyone could have gotten the large capstone propped on top of the two upright stones, especially without modern equipment. He tries to visualize the burial, the placement of a body into the tomb. Who was buried here, he wonders? What were they like? What was their family like? How did they live?

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of laughter close to his right as as couple of young girls dare each other to slip under the rope. Luckily, a parent came to grab them before they could, pulling them away so they won’t be tempted again. Jarred back into reality, Louis’s now aware of Liam and Zayn to his left, quietly discussing what the guide had told them before setting them free. Realizing that he has no idea where the others are, Louis looks around, spotting Katie taking a selfie with Harry and Niall. Louis frowns. Katie’s usually more serious than that, but she’s currently giggling and pulling funny faces with the two boys, even letting Niall steal her hat. It’s both refreshing and a little disconcerting to see her being playful, but maybe Harry’s presence brings it out in her. Louis wouldn’t blame her; Harry is quite attractive.

Speaking of Harry, he catches Louis staring over at them, immediately releasing his smile and stepping back from Niall and Katie. It looks like he’s politely declining to participate in any more pictures. Louis has no idea what he’s done, but it’s really starting to seem like Harry doesn’t like him. They’d literally only just met. How could Louis have offended him so seriously in that time?

After a while spent at the tomb, they’re gathered up to take a group picture just in front of the tomb’s entrance. Louis’s placed in front of Harry due to his height, standing next to Katie while the rest of the boys stand behind them. The guide gets the photo and they’re off, back to the bus for lunch and then for their drive to the ruins of a church about an hour away from the tomb.

Liam and Zayn manage to claim the back row this time, and Harry and Niall snag the middle, leaving Louis to choose between either cramming into a row of 3 or sitting up front with Ellen. He’s considering just making Harry shove over to give him room, but he changes his mind, opting to talk to Ellen during their drive to lunch. Katie sits beside Harry in the middle, and they fill the car with friendly chatter while Louis tries to ignore it. He’s frustrated, unable to figure out why Harry seems to open up with the others but seems to shut down with just a glance from Louis.

Harry continues to avoid his eye at lunch and as they tour the church ruins. Louis forgets most of his frustration as they’re walking around, taking in the crosses, the graves, and the other features within the old stone walls. They’re given quite a bit of time to look around, but it still doesn’t feel like enough. It never feels like enough. Louis thinks he could sit for hours somewhere like this, breathing in the clean air, just staring at the walls, the wildflowers defiantly sprouting between gravesites, and the worn inscriptions on the headstones. He never feels like he gets enough time to truly take in the feeling of remains like this, except at the fort.

Niall goes into the church with Liam and Katie, having quickly becoming bored with the graves outside, and Zayn walks around to the entrance to get a quick sketch of it, leaving Harry and Louis alone where they are. Harry’s still doing his best to ignore Louis, instead leaning down to somberly read one of the more recent headstones. Louis peeks over to read it too, noticing the years on it and wincing.

“J. Fanning (1774-1776)”

Louis doesn’t mean to speak to Harry, determined to give him a subtle silent treatment similar to the one that he’s been receiving, but really. It’s a two-year-old’s grave.

“Shit.”

Harry turns to look at him, clearly surprised, but he tries to mask it. “What?” Louis pretends he doesn't feel a thrill from having Harry speak to him. 

Louis gestures towards the headstone. “The grave. That’s rough, burying someone so young.”

Harry stands and looks back at the grave, shrugging loosely. “Yeah, I imagine it is. It’s…” He trails off briefly, looking back at Louis, then lowering his eyes like he’s just remembered who he’s talking to. “It’s rough,” he finishes, echoing Louis’ words.

Louis doesn’t know what to say next, but that doesn’t seem to matter because Harry’s walking away from him, seemingly interested in reading as many headstones as possible. Louis lets him go, unsurprised that Harry seems to be trying to get away from him as quickly as he can. He just doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong.

Harry’s back to giggling and joking around with Niall and Katie once they’re back at the pub for dinner, even letting Liam and Zayn in, which results in Louis sullenly sitting at the far end of the table since he’s apparently not allowed to be friendly with Harry. He tries to shake it off that night before bed, telling himself that maybe they’ve just had a weird introduction and haven’t yet found the right way to properly connect. Niall’s told him before that he can come off as being intimidating. Maybe that’s all?

Harry’s gentle snores and Zayn’s sleep-talk keep him up later than he’d like, but he feels a little better tonight anyway knowing that they go back to digging tomorrow. It’ll be Harry’s first day onsite, and it might be nice to see him knocked out of his blossoming comfort zone a little bit.


	4. Chapter 4

Monday starts early, and everyone’s groggy as they shuffle around in socks and brush their teeth, Harry and Zayn hogging the sink to wash their faces. Louis pulls his work gear on with an old Guinness t shirt, wincing at the feeling of grime already on his skin. The washer at the hostel only manages to get some of the filth out of their clothes per wash, and it takes ages for them to air dry, so mostly, they just wear semi-dirty clothing. They’re only going to be covered in dirt and sweat again by the end of the day, so it doesn’t exactly make a difference anyway.

Harry’s the only one in spotless clothing, wearing a sensible and trendy pair of dungarees over a long sleeve tee. His socks are still purely white. Louis hates him, unreasonably envious of his cleanliness. Even his gloves, which Louis catches him packing into his bag, are pristine. He wonders if Harry would catch him stealing them.

They slowly wake up over breakfast, Katie the most alert of them all, reading a book over her cup of tea and toast. She’s got her hair braided today, something she recommends to Harry, looking over his long curls.

“It’ll probably help, honestly. It’s impossible to dig with hair in your face.”

Harry shrugs, unbothered. “I’ll tie it up when we get there.” Louis rolls his eyes to prevent himself from imagining Harry with a braid, and he notices Harry pretending to not see.

Ellen opens the back of the bus for them when she arrives, letting them throw their bags in. Louis makes sure he gets in the back row this time, joined by Zayn. Liam, Katie, and Niall take the middle, giving Ellen the opportunity to get to know Harry a little more. It’s mostly a quiet ride, everyone mentally preparing for another full day of digging.

Dr. Fielding and Dr. Slater are waiting for them in the equipment room when the bus pulls up, greeting the students as they slowly spill out and trudge into the locker room to strap on their boots and grab their trowels. Dr. Fielding takes Harry aside to personally greet him and show him around the classroom building a little, giving him a key for a locker after showing him where the sinks and the recycling bin are. Harry rushes putting his boots on to catch up with the others, pulling out an unused trowel after smearing sunscreen onto his face. Louis makes an internal quip about Harry’s vanity (although acknowledging that his perfectly creamy complexion must require some upkeep) before putting his hat on, heading out to help load the wheelbarrows.

They push the gear out to the fort, Harry marveling at the sheep and the calves standing out in their fields as they pass by. Once they’ve got everything in the tent, they gather around Dr. Slater for instruction.

“We’re going to start with the tarp, of course. I want everyone except for Harry and Zayn taking the rocks off the center of the tarp. You two boys can take the rocks off the outer edges so you won’t actually be walking over the site. Louis and Zayn, go to the far side when it’s time to roll up the tarp. Harry and Niall, stand opposite of those two. Louis, you’ll take the end up here by the tent, and Katie, you’re in charge of everyone, as always.”

Katie smiles even though Dr. Slater had left her in charge of shouting off commands to unroll the tarp ever since she’d arrived. It’s probably out of female camaraderie, but Louis’s just glad he doesn’t have to be held responsible for the tarp for the time being.

Dr. Slater continues, “You’ll sort out the buckets on your own, and then we’ll go back to where you were digging last week, but I want Niall from next to Louis to move inside the structure with Katie and Dr. Fielding. Harry, you’ll replace Niall so that Louis can show you the ropes. I’m working close to that area, so I’ll get you started with actual digging and I’ll be there for questions. Louis, you’ll show Harry the wet sieve station out in the field and help him figure out where everything goes, alright?”

Louis is mildly disappointed. He was looking forward to having Niall to himself today, but he certainly won’t go against what his professor asks of him (and a small part of him is a little happy to be forced to spend time with Harry). Harry doesn’t exactly look elated about the situation, but he also doesn’t protest. 

They throw the rocks holding the tarp down back into the large stone pile running parallel to the trench and then get into position to fold the tarp up, exposing the dig site. Katie calls out orders, having Louis walk down the middle, guiding the end of the tarp so that it stays straight while the others race to secure it. It’s a little clumsy, mostly because it always is but also because Harry’s helping, and he’s new. It’s a little satisfying to see him trip up, looking shaken by the time they’ve got the tarp fully folded and sat it off to the side, by their professors’ tent.

Liam sorts out the buckets with Zayn and Niall deal transfer shovels, brushes, and kneeling pads into each bucket. Katie pulls the bigger stone buckets apart, handing one to everyone. They clamber down into the trench, avoiding stepping on the very edges so as to not compress the dirt. Harry kneels next to Louis in their corner, letting Dr. Slater show him the technique, the right way to kneel, and instructing him to tell her if he thinks he finds anything besides animal bone, leaving them with a bone tray and instructions to take their section down a half inch or so.

Louis starts in right away, beginning to fill his stone bucket immediately while Harry stares at the dirt in front of them like he’s terrified to touch it. Louis grits his teeth and bites back the small piece of anxiety welling in his throat, deciding to give Harry some instruction just to get it out of the way.

“So your red bucket is for the dirt and like, pebbles that you scrape up. The black bucket is for bigger stones, like this,” he says, holding up an egg shaped rock. “The small stone pile is over there,” he points, “and we’re going to wet sieve out in the field with the calves. I’ll show you that when your bucket’s full. This tray is for animal bone. There’s quite a lot of it out here.”

Harry nods, murmuring a quiet thanks. By the time they take tea inside the fort’s visitor center, his red bucket’s still not full while the rest have done at least two runs to the wet sieve station. It’s because he’s new and hesitant, he knows, but Louis can't help but to be a little irritated by it, refusing to admit that it's actually because Harry still isn't interested in even engaging in small talk. When they come back, Dr. Slater looks at their progress, kindly suggesting that Harry speed it up a little. “There’s no need to be afraid of the dirt. Just try not to destroy any treasure you may find.”

Louis had been that frightened when he’d done the program last year, terrified that he would accidentally obliterate ancient artefacts and ruin the site. He’d always heard how carefully archaeologists worked, brushing everything off delicately and with painstaking care, but he’d had to learn to actually get some work done with his trowel, making progress in his various sections quickly enough to keep up with everyone else. Now Harry’s got to learn the same thing, that’s all.

Harry fills his red bucket fairly quickly after that suggestion, needing Louis to show him how to use the wet sieve station. Louis hates to leave his section, but begrudgingly walks him over to the field, opening the gate and locking it behind them before turning the water on. They walk over to four yellow buckets on their sides, two large metal barrels, and a plank of wood thrown on top of four hoses. Louis can’t help but to smile a little, but he tries to hide it from Harry.

“The calves like to knock it over whenever no one’s in here.” He shows Harry how to set it up again, placing the plank on top of the barrels and the buckets on top of the plank. He gives Harry a sieve, placing it over one of the yellow buckets. “So you’ll just pour some of your dirt out into the sieve and spray it with the hose. You’ll probably just have some little rocks left, but you might also find some bits of bone. There’s a bone tray here, so just put them in there. Dump the yellow bucket out in front of you as you need to, and don’t be afraid to spray the calves if they come up too close and bother you. And don’t forget to lock the gate again when you come back to the trench.”

Harry nods, pouring dirt out into his sieve as Louis goes back to dig. He’s still working a little slowly before and after lunch, but he’s picking it up, only asking Dr. Slater a few questions. He doesn’t ask Louis any, but Louis doesn’t mind. He’s hoping to find something today. So far, he’s only found an iron nail. Last summer, he’d had some secret knack for finding things, finding “treasure.” This year, it seems as though his luck had run out. He’s still happy to dig, of course, and more than happy when someone else gets a find. He’d just like another, just to really keep him going.

They’re about thirty minutes from packing up and heading back to the student building when he happens to glance over at Harry’s section, and his heart stops. He sees it before Harry does, knows what’s going to happen. His blood boils with irrational envy as he eyes the circular edges, and he has to bite his tongue when he knows that Harry sees it too.

Harry pauses for a moment, setting down his trowel. He trades it for a brush, carefully sweeping over the small piece of metal. Dr. Slater notices his change in pace, looking over, her face lighting up behind her glasses when she realizes he’s got something. She comes over to watch him carefully unearth it, reaching her hand out for him to hand her the ring once he’s got it.

“Ooh, looks like Harry’s got beginner’s luck!” she cries, obviously delighted. Everyone looks over at their section, calling out congratulations and standing to walk over and see what he’s got. Dr. Slater hands him a green tag, instructing him to stick it in the ground where he’d found the ring. Louis’s only ever gotten a white tag before. He pretends to not care.

She bags the ring up after taking a picture of Harry holding it in his palms, letting them finish up a few minutes early. They load their equipment back into the wheelbarrows, rolling the tarp back over the trench under Katie’s watch. Harry’s clearly elated, and the others aren’t shy at all about letting him know what an amazing find it was, but Louis just holds it against him. Who finds something on their very first day, let alone something so amazing? He knows it’s actually due to chance, not skill, but he’s still upset. It’s been weeks since he found anything.

His bad mood finally lightens a little the next day when he finds a bead in the sieve, excitedly presenting it to Dr. Fielding. It gets bagged, and he tags the general area he’d found it in. He’s feeling pretty decent again, even though it’s just a bead, not a ring, when Harry leans up straighter beside him, something in his hands, and calls Dr. Slater over.

“I think I’ve got something. I think it’s iron. Is it a knife?”

It’s corroded and misshapen, but it is indeed a knife. He gets another tag, although just a white one this time, and Louis wonders how he’d come to hold a grudge against a person so quickly. He tries to rationalize his feelings before admitting to himself that he is truly just pouting because he hasn’t found anything like that. He justifies it by thinking about Harry and how he still seems to lack interest in talking to Louis more than is necessary. He sits by Katie during meals and always manages to sit away from Louis in the bus, and they don’t talk much at the hostel unless civility requires it.

Harry glows at dinner that night while the others praise him for his luck, Niall saying that he must have brought some sort of magic with him. Louis stalks back to the hostel early, alerting the boys (minus Harry) to his sullen state. When Harry goes for a walk with Katie to see the horse on a nearby farm after dinner, they confront Louis about his attitude.

“What’s wrong with Harry, really? I know he’s still a bit shy around you, but you just need to be friendly with him. That’s all,” Niall insists.

Louis huffs out a breath. “He’s not just shy around me. He actively doesn’t like me, and I didn’t even do anything to him. I just didn’t leap onto him when he first got here like you lot did. And in fairness, I didn’t have time to because he was unpacking and I was just trying to get into the shower before dinner.”

Liam shrugs. “I still think you should try to be a little nicer. You remember how weird it was to be new here last year, yeah?” When Louis refuses to answer, he continues, “He’s probably feeling weird about it too. And I think you can forgive him for his finds. You know he has no control over that.”

Louis protests immediately, “I don’t care about his finds!”

Zayn smirks. “Of course you do. You haven’t found anything in weeks, and he shows up and finds a ring and a knife in your section? Without ever having dug before?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Okay, I’m a little jealous of the ring, but I honestly don’t care that much,” he lies. “I just don’t get good vibes from him,” he says, knowing it’s just a stupid defense for his developing grudge.

Niall shakes his head. “You always hate people when you just meet them. You got off on the wrong foot with all of us, remember? It’s like your superpower. It’ll just take you a few days, and then you’ll see that Harry’s alright.”

Louis promises to give him a chance to shut the boys up, and he actually thinks that he might be willing to drop his pettiness long enough to become friends with Harry like everyone else had done so quickly. When Harry snores later that night, however, Louis changes his mind again, resolving to remain annoyed with this curly-headed newcomer with beginner’s luck.


	5. Chapter 5

It’s a particularly miserable Wednesday. It’s rainy and windy, an awful combination for a group of students relying on keeping the hoods of their jackets up to keep the rain out of their face. Dr. Slater places Louis and Harry in a new section, switching them with Niall and Katie to give them a chance to work inside the structure while they’re still at this layer. The problem with this layer is that, like most of the other layers so far, it’s full of stones. Their rock buckets fill quickly, slowing them down as they keep having to get up and empty them out.

After a few bucket runs, Harry stands to get rid of his stones yet again. He stands, careful to stay on the larger rocks so as not to ruin what’s just been worked on, stepping slowly so as to not slip in the rain. He stops briefly just in front of Louis, eyeing his rock bucket, which is also full.

“Want me to take that for you while I’m up?”

Louis looks up, surprised by the question and pissed by the sudden gust of wind in his face. Harry holds his eyes with a steady gaze, but Louis can still see something off in his face, like a weird tension. He’s not quite sure what it is, but it’s still getting under his skin. Knowing that Harry isn’t a fan of his, he’s unwilling to accept his help, even though he's secretly glad to be asked. Louis looks back down at his work.

“No. I’ll get it in a minute, thanks,” he answers flatly. He doesn’t look up to see Harry’s reaction, just waits for his legs to walk away before letting out a breath. He looks over at Liam, who gives him a look like _What was that about?_ Louis shrugs shortly and gets back to troweling.

They’re allowed to leave for lunch a few minutes early so they can get their muddy rain gear off and pull on warm sweaters before entering the visitor center. Niall and Katie huddle closely together at the table, both shivering too hard to even pick up their cups of tea. Harry pulls his hands inside his sweater and folds his arms, trying to generate as much of his own warmth as he can. Louis almost feels sorry for him, except he’s also freezing and that’s making his temper shorter than usual. He ignores Harry and tries to focus on whatever Liam’s telling him.

“Dr. Fielding said we might be working in a kitchen of some sort, or part of a home structure. I can’t wait to read the report on it after the dig’s finished.”

Normally, Louis would be just as enthusiastic, but right now he only cares about restoring feeling to his fingers and toes. He wraps his hand around his tea, burning his fingers, but he can’t be bothered to care. He just wants to be warm again, and he hates to think of sliding his cold, wet rain gear back on and stepping back into his muddy boots before heading back out to the trench for another three hours.

Lunch passes too quickly. They’re just starting to feel human again when Dr. Slater comes by and tells them to finish up so they can head out again. Louis wants to crawl into his locker and nap in there until Ellen comes to fetch them later. He briefly wonders if he could pull off faking sick enough to leave.

He cringes as he sits on the bench in front of his locker, stepping out of his dry trainers and pushing his legs into his trouser covers. Immediately, he’s drained of all warmth. He swears he can feel his skin shrinking. His jacket’s no better, and the most he can do for himself is pull out his spare gloves, even though he knows that they’ll just be soaked through in a matter of minutes. He ties his boots back onto his feet slowly, drawing out the pain and dramatically wincing through the process. Mostly everyone’s out before he finally finishes redressing.

Niall nudges Harry on his way out, calling “I’m leaving without you, mate!” over his shoulder as he opens the door and bravely marches out into the rain. It’s just Harry and Louis alone, then. Louis feels a little bad for shooting him down earlier, but not enough to do anything about it right now. Instead, he finishes lacing up his boot, pulling a face when he stands and his feet sink into the damp soles. “Waterproof” was an impossibility in this rain.

Harry catches his reaction, looking away again right after. He stands to zip his jacket up, acting as if he saw nothing, then paused just as he was about to walk out. He turns suddenly, meeting Louis’ eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hand warmer, tossing it over. Louis catches it instinctively, looking down to inspect it. He reflexively goes to thank Harry, but he’s gone already. Louis’s grateful, but he’s also annoyed. He doesn’t want help from someone who so clearly doesn't care for him.

The warmth is nice, though, so he ends up holding onto it. He intended to throw it at Harry’s stupid curly head back in the trench, but instead, it ends up tucked inside one of his gloves, keeping feeling in at least one part of his body. He’s spitefully thankful for it, refusing to even look at Harry lest he figure it out.

They’re all disgusting by the time Ellen picks them up. Louis takes the back, rushing outside for it, and Harry’s the next one out. He climbs into the back beside Louis, exhausted enough to apparently not realize who he’s sat next to until he sees Zayn slide into the middle row. Harry looks at Zayn, seemingly baffled, then at Louis, his shoulders sinking. In fairness, everyone had their hoods up, and Zayn and Louis are both wearing black. Louis can’t help but to smirk to himself, even though he now has to spend the 20-minute ride beside Harry ‘found a silver ring on the first day’ Styles. Harry just slides his headphones in and stares out the opposite window, intentionally keeping his face from pointing towards Louis.

Harry’s got the first shower that day, and he’s nearly stripped all the way down by the time they’re upstairs. He grabs his caddy and his towel, clicking the bathroom door behind himself. Louis waits to hear the water start, mentally cursing Harry for holding them up. Instead of the sound of water, however, he hears the door open again, and then Harry firmly clicking it shut as he stands, still dripping and filthy, in the bedroom. Louis tries not to look at his legs.

Niall gives him a confused look. “Something wrong? Some kind of shower demon?”

Harry shakes his head, looking petrified. “There’s a massive spider in there, right next to the handle.” When Louis silently laughs from his bunk, Harry catches the motion, and this time, when his cheeks go pink from what seems like embarrassment, instead of passively and silently hating him, he snaps, “You can go deal with it if you’d fucking like to, Louis.” 

The room goes dead silent immediately. It had been becoming pretty clear that something was up, but this seals it. Harry stares at Louis, daring him to answer. It’s actually a bit terrifying. Harry’s built, and he’s quite tall. It turns out his voice can go even deeper than usual when he’s upset. He’s scarier now than he is when he’s soaked to the bone through his rain jacket and dungarees. Louis’s almost impressed with him for finally speaking up, but he’s also pissed because he hadn’t planned on getting caught. He’d only planned on being silently petty the rest of the night. Also, he's pretty sure he's not the one who started this problem between them? 

Still, now that he’s challenged, he has to rise to it, his competitive streak taking over. The boys are all staring at him, waiting for him to respond. He finally raises to his feet, walking over to the bathroom in his socks. “Fine. I’ll deal with it, since you’re apparently unable to.” He pretends to not notice that Harry’s just in his pants when he squeezes by him to go inspect the spider (and he definitely does _not_ notice Harry's tattoos, previously hidden under long sleeves).

In fairness, it is actually a massive spider. It’s not one of the spindly, harmless ones, either. It’s huge and dark, sat right next to the shower handle. Harry could have knocked his hand right into it if he hadn’t been paying attention. The thought makes Louis feel a little lighter, but remembering that he’s volunteered himself to take care of it brings him down again.

He takes a deep breath in. “Niall?”

“Yes, love?” Niall’s blond head appears amongst those inspecting the monstrous spider from a distance.

“Where’s the spider catcher?”

They’d bought one as soon as they saw it in the shop. The ‘6 spiders hanging above Niall’s bunk’ incident had made it necessary.

“In my bunk. Hang on one second.” Niall disappears, and then a series of hands are passing the spider catcher forward. Harry hands it to Louis, still looking angry, but also scared now that he’s a few steps closer to the offending creature.

Louis steps forward slowly, nervous that the spider will do something awful like jump off the wall and onto his face, or that he’ll accidentally scream. He bites his lip and gradually raises the tool in front of him, holding it right in front of the spider. He clenches his teeth and shuts his eyes, shooting his arm out and squeezing the handle. 4 voices behind him scream as soon as he does, so his own yelp gets lost in the commotion. Small blessings.

He opens his eyes, sure that he’s missed and that the spider’s running around his feet by now, but it ends up being caught safely in the bristles of the catcher. He turns to drop it in the toilet, intending to flush it to oblivion, but Harry stops him.

“No, you’ve got to let him outside!”

Louis glares over his shoulder at Harry. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Harry stares back defiantly. Louis feels alive. Frustrated, but alive. “That’s the whole point of that thing anyway, isn’t it? To release them alive?”

Louis sighs, too fed up to fight. “I’ll put it out the window, but that’s all. I’m not going all the way downstairs with this.”

Harry shrugs. “That’s fine, I suppose.”

Louis exits the room, brandishing the spider. The boys flee from it, knowing all too well that he could always choose to instead release it on them. Liam cracks the window, and Louis drops the spider onto the ledge outside. “There. It’s done. Go take your bloody shower now, please, so the rest of us get a chance to clean off before we eat.”

Harry glares at him, but he does start the shower, and Louis notices that he doesn’t take as long as he usually does.

While he’s in there, the other boys swarm Louis.

"What was that all about?”

Louis flops back onto his bed, covering his eyes with his arms. “Nothing. Go away.”

Niall crawls in beside him, forcing him to make way. “We thought you were going to give him a chance!”

Louis uncovers his eyes to look at Niall in disbelief. “He’s the one who yelled at me!” 

“Because you laughed at him! Come on, Lou. You know that spider was terrifying. I wouldn’t have showered with it in there either. 

Louis doesn’t answer, so Liam tries this time, pressing softly. “What happened with you two?”

Louis shrugs, jostling Niall. “We just don’t get along. It’s no big deal.” He knows that Harry actually snapped at him because of how bitchy Louis had been to him all day, despite Harry’s efforts at kindness. 

Liam sighs, looking defeated. “Well, whatever it is, you’ve got to sort it out eventually. At least enough to be civil to each other.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He throws a fake spider into Harry’s bed before they head down to the pub. Louis only shrieks a little when he wakes up to find it on his pillow the next morning.


	6. Chapter 6

On Thursday, a relatively sunny day, Zayn finds an arrowhead, and Niall finds two halves of a needle. Louis is more determined than ever to find something, at least a piece of slag, but all he can find is teeth. He’s frustrated enough, but then Harry unearths “a funny-looking stone with some slashes on it,” and before Louis can even process his own anger, Dr. Fielding is praising Harry for finding a whetstone.

Liam’s fine having not found anything, just happy to continue working on the outer wall of the structure they’re uncovering. In contrast, Louis is increasingly less satisfied with his own work, troweling faster in hopes of uncovering something before Harry can get to it. All he gets for it is another handful of teeth, and honestly, what the hell kind of structure _are_ they revealing?

Harry reads at tea and at lunch, apologizing to everyone for being rude, but explaining that he has to finish this book for an online class before the summer’s over. “I’m a slow reader, and I’m always too worn out at the end of the day to hold my eyes open, so I’m trying to find time when I can.” And he had been, reading on the bus and while the others showered and in the morning while waiting for Ellen to arrive. Louis glances at the book cover for the first time at tea.

He’s talking to Niall in the locker room later, talking shit because he's still bitter about Harry finding a whetstone and not even recognizing it, and he fucks up worse than he meant to.

“It’s just The Dubliners, I don’t see why he’s making such a fuss about it. It’s just a collection of short stories. How can it take him so long to read it that he’s got to read it at lunch?”

Niall’s trying to shut him up, but it’s too late. Over his shoulder, Louis sees Harry stalking out to the trench, having emerged from the equipment room adjacent to the locker room. Louis winces. “Ah, shit. Is the door open?” He peeks around Niall, seeing that the door to the equipment room is wide open. “Hell.”

Niall offers him a look that’s somehow sympathetic and chastising at the same time. “You should probably apologize to him.”

Louis’ whole body tenses at the idea. “Can it wait, at least?” he whines.

Niall shrugs. “It’s your fuck-up, so your choice, but I’d do it soon if I were you.”

Louis decides to wait until they’re back at the hostel so he can apologize without their professors witnessing it, at least. It turns out that Niall was right, though, and that Harry can be a little vindictive.

At the wet sieve, he, Harry, and Katie are all stood next to each other, quietly searching for bits in their trays. Louis turns to grab his red bucket, accidentally keeping his hand tight on the hose and spraying Harry in the face. Harry gasps in shock, and Katie looks at Louis incredulously. He starts to apologize and explain himself, but he falters under Harry's heavy gaze, and then they’re all back to stoically rinsing their dirt. Harry probably just wants to keep the peace, but Louis can see that he’s mad. He suspects that Katie does nothing because she heard them arguing over the spider yesterday. He awkwardly goes back to his own sieve, being careful to set the hose down on the bench when he needs to use his other hand. Why can't he get anything right today? 

Katie finishes quickly (which Louis suspects is done intentionally), leaving him alone with Harry. He can’t quite bring himself to initiate an apology, not just yet. He only needs a few more seconds to psyche himself up enough for it, but then Harry’s finished as well, turning his hose off and sitting the sieve down, lifting the bucket to pour it out.

Louis keeps his eyes averted so as to avoid further offending Harry or accidentally making painfully awkward eye contact with him. Because of this, he completely misses the signs for what’s about to happen, and he shrieks when cold water pours over his shoulders, down his back and front. He whips his head around to stare at Harry accusingly, but the taller boy doesn’t even bother avoiding his eyes this time. He just sits the bucket down on the plank, picking up his empty dirt bucket and walking through the gate that Zayn’s holding open in disbelief, having just witnessed Harry essentially kicking Louis’ ass in a water fight he hadn’t meant to start in the first place.

Zayn joins Louis at the bench as he furiously goes back to working.

“Did anything else happen? What did I miss?”

“I accidentally sprayed him with my hose,” Louis admits bitterly. “And I may have implied that he’s slow earlier when I didn’t know he was listening.”

Zayn chuckles, reveling in Harry’s revenge. “Sounds like you deserved it.”

Louis doesn’t respond. When Dr. Slater asks him what had happened to his clothes, he blames the cows.


	7. Chapter 7

It’s rainy again on Friday, and everyone’s miserable, and possibly a little ill. No one finds anything, but they make enough progress to satisfy their professors. The cafeteria employees bring them takeaway cups of tea while they wait for Ellen, at least.

Harry’d been avoiding Louis all day, and in turn, Louis had been avoiding him. Their ‘water fight’ had left them suspended, waiting to see who would make the next move. So far, nothing had happened, except that the others tread carefully when they saw Louis and Harry next to each other at any point in the day. They even made sure that they sat in separate rows on the bus, hoping to prevent potential fighting.

Louis looks so miserable and has such an awful headache that Liam sacrifices the first shower to let him in, a favor that Louis gratefully promises to repay later. He stands in the steam, relishing in the heat until Zayn bangs on the door and reminds him that the rest of them would like a turn as well. He reluctantly lets Harry in next, making a face at the door once Harry’s shut it behind himself.

Niall sighs. “Still not giving it up?”

Louis shrugs petulantly. “He did throw a bucket of water on me.”

“After you made fun of his reading and sprayed him in the face,” Liam reminds him, not even looking up from his book of word searches. Honestly.

“Still. It was a full bucket, and on one of the only days when it wasn’t raining,” Louis grumbles.

“Did you even apologize for your comments on The Dubliners, by the way?” Niall asks. Louis’ face and lack of verbal reply reveal his answer. “It would probably make things a little easier, Lou. It might even make you feel better.”

Louis shakes his head doubtfully. “The only thing that’ll make me feel better is more than 6 hours of shitty sleep.”

That’s why he decides to head back upstairs early after they eat, declining to stay up for a few more drinks. Harry’s nearly at the end of a story about his sister when Louis stands, suddenly overwhelmed by his returning headache. He pretends to not notice how Harry’s face falls. He really didn’t mean to interrupt him, or to make it seem like he was leaving just because he was talking. After his comment yesterday, Louis still feels a little guilty, and he’s trying to be a little nicer to Harry.

“Where exactly are you going?” Liam inquires.

“Bed. Headache. Can’t stand all this noise.” He gestures to everyone in the pub, but he sees on Harry’s face that he’d taken personal offense anyway.

“Want me to come with you?” Niall offers.

Louis shakes his head. “Nah, you stay. You’ll just shake the bed laughing at videos on your phone anyway.”

“Alright, then. Have lovely dreams.” Louis doesn’t even have time to protest before Niall’s standing and pressing a beer-scented kiss to his forehead. He wipes it off, smiling, before heading up to their shared room.

He doesn’t go to bed straightaway like he’d said. He pops some painkillers and calls his mum instead, updating her on the dig and then talking to each of his sisters for a few minutes each. He feels more relaxed by the time he’s forced to hang up due to low battery, and he drifts off easily after plugging his phone into the wall beside him.

He wakes up, not knowing how long he’s slept, to the sound of a deep, male voice. He sits up, looking around for the boys, but they’re still not back. It looks like it’s only just gone fully dark outside, so they must still be at the pub, but there is most definitely a voice coming from somewhere. He kneels on his bed and peeks out the window, looking down to find the mystery culprit. Who dares to wake him when he’s not feeling well?

He’s not surprised at all to see Harry sitting at the table under the tree in front of the hostel. He’s got his phone pressed to his ear with one sweater-pawed hand while the other wipes at his face. He’s…crying?

He sounds drunk, or at least tipsy, when Louis manages to finally catch some words, silently opening the window wider than a crack so that he can hear better.

Harry’s voice is wet with tears, and probably with a fair amount of cider, knowing Niall’s habit of pushing everyone to keep up with him.

“It’s mostly good, yeah. I keep finding things, but I dunno why. Beginner’s luck, maybe.” It sounds like he’s talking to someone familiar, someone he knows well. He waits for their response before laughing a little. “Yeah, I know. I always manage to get in over my head. At least this isn’t as bad as the library internship gone wrong.”

Harry worked at a library? Louis realizes he doesn’t even know what Harry’s studying. He just assumed it was archaeology like the rest of them.

Harry tucks his free hand under his chin, listening. He smiles a little before answering again. “Yeah, no, it’s cool. I found a ring, a silver ring, my first day. That was insane. Then I got a knife, and then a whetstone today. Apparently that’s used to sharpen tools, which I only learned after calling it a weird-looking rock.” He pauses. “The others have had some good finds, too. Zayn found an arrowhead today, and Niall found bits of a needle. Louis found a bead a few days ago.” Louis’s surprised to hear his name come out of Harry’s mouth. His face heats a little in the dark of the bedroom.

Harry smiles too tightly while listening to the person on the other end, his face finally falling and his voice cracking. “Yeah, I just…I don’t know if I’m in the right place here. I can’t stop thinking about everything with…you know. I know I really fu-messed that up. Sorry, mum.” He inhales shakily. “I just, I’ve really pissed someone off here. Yeah, one of the other students, definitely not a professor.”

Louis feels awful, his heart sinking. Truthfully, he had been pissed at Harry, but Harry hadn’t actually done anything to him, nothing unprovoked, at least. He thought it was a mutual disdain they'd developed for each other, but why would Harry seem so upset if that weren’t the case?

“Everyone else is really cool and nice, but I don’t even know what I did to this one person. It feels like he’s just hated me since I showed up. I think it might have started because I knocked the shower rotation out of order that first night? But surely he wouldn’t hold a grudge over that for too long, right?”

Louis had no idea that Harry felt this way. He genuinely thought that Harry just hated him, but it would make sense for him to avoid Louis’ eye and company if he felt like this.

“I mean, I’ve done stuff to piss him off now.” He giggles, a sad sound coming from his teary throat. “I poured a bucket of water over his head.” He laughs, brighter, and rushes to defend himself to his mother. “It was after he sprayed me with a hose! He deserved it!” He doesn’t mention the comment about The Dubliners, Louis notices. Shame creeps along his skin, burning him.

Harry’s face falls again soon enough as the humor leaves his voice, not enough to bring him all the way out of his mood. “I really think it’s just because I’m aggravating him. That’s what happened with Charlie and Oli, right? I just stuck around until they were sick of me, only Louis can’t just leave because we literally spend all day together. I’m trying to leave him alone, but I don’t think it’s working.”

Louis feels like a monster. He had no idea that this is what Harry thought of him. But, this is how he’d been acting, isn’t it? He thought that Harry didn’t like him, so he avoided him and teased him. Are they really just both that daft?

“Anyway, I know that you’re tired, and I really need to head upstairs. Niall got me tipsy, and we’re supposed to be up early again tomorrow for our trip to the city.” He smiles, listening for a second. “I love you too, mum. Goodnight.” He pulls the phone away from his ear, clicking it off.

Louis waits, frozen, watching Harry wipe his face with his sleeves before standing to come upstairs. Immediately, Louis climbs under the covers again and flattens himself against the mattress, facing away from the door. He pretends to be asleep when Harry comes in and sprawls out on his bunk, snoring after just a few moments, but Louis’s so consumed by guilt that he doesn’t actually drift off again for an hour.


	8. Chapter 8

Ellen picks them up in the morning, and Louis wakes up late again, too late to pull Harry aside and try to set things right. He can’t do it in the bus where everyone can hear, and there’s no time once they get to the city before their guide starts them out walking through a cathedral. He’ll just have to try later.

In the meantime, he’s trying to be kinder towards and around Harry, intentionally softening his face when he’s standing next to him, making sure to make eye contact with him when he’s telling something to the whole group, and not aggressively moving away from them if their arms happen to brush each other (although that might partially be because of the sparks he feels at Harry's accidental touch). He doesn’t think Harry really notices, but he’s trying regardless.

At lunch, after their guide had taken them all over the city (through churches, parks, and universities) during their 2-hour tour, they’re forced to rapidly squeeze into a booth in order to claim a spot, and Harry ends up pressed close to Louis, visibly uncomfortable. To Louis’ credit, despite his rising anxiety levels (he’s not a huge fan of crowds, and the lack of sleep only puts him more on edge), he holds himself together throughout the meal, remembering Harry’s drunken distress the night before. When they knock elbows, he bites his mouth shut and doesn’t remark on it. When Harry jostles him accidentally, they both refuse to acknowledge it, instead ignoring each other for the sake of civility. They survive the meal despite the obvious tension, and they make it nearly all the way through their day without any incident.

Louis has been putting tremendous effort into holding himself together so as to keep Harry from feeling further attacked and to generally maintain the peace amongst all of them, but his determination is dissolving as the crowds continue to threaten to split them up. He’s tired, his feet hurt, and he feels like he’s suffocating in a sea of people. They have about 20 minutes before the bus comes to get them again, and they need to decide which way to go to get to their meeting spot.

Liam checks his phone, looking at their options. “Alright, so we can take either this street here,” he gestures, “or here. The one on the left will take us past a few more gift shops, in case anyone needs to pick anything out still.”

He looks to Katie for this, since she’s the one leaving the next day. She shakes her head. “I’m all set, but I don’t mind to go through them if anyone else would like to.”

Liam looks back to his phone. “Our other option will take us past a bookstore. We wouldn’t have too long in there, but if anyone wanted to pick something up, they could. Harry, didn’t you say you were looking for a book on the local history?”

Harry looks caught off guard, fumbling to answer. A couple of other tourists shove into Louis as they walk past, and he swears he can feel his entire skeleton tightening. He hates crowds. So. Fucking. Much.

“Uhh, I don’t really care either way. I don’t necessarily need a book, I just thought it might be interesting.”

“Are you sure? It wouldn’t take too long.”

Louis is exhausted and too warm, and he feels like he’s absorbing the energy of everyone surrounding, swallowing their sound into his skin so that his nervous system buzzes helplessly, too much for his body to handle.

“I really don’t mind. We can do whichever.”

Louis grits his teeth, staring at a couple taking a selfie a few feet away. They’re just wasting time standing there, no one willing to just make a simple choice. “Harry, can you just pick so we can get out of here?”

“I don’t-”

Someone laughs too close to his ear. “For fuck’s sake, please just make a decision!” Louis is normally better at keeping his temper under control when he’s anxious, overly aware of how tense he gets and how lashing out at others only makes things worse. Today, though, he’s stretched too thin to hold it together for too long, but he feels awful the moment he snaps at Harry, whose face tightens into hurt disappointment.

“Gift shops. Whatever. Let’s just go.”

Liam leads the way, no one commenting on the fact that Louis has just yelled at Harry yet again. Harry walks up front with him, Niall and Louis bringing up the back. Niall looks at Louis knowingly, also aware of his hatred of crowds. “I’m sure if you just explained it to him, Lou…”

“Then what? I’ve already messed it up before today. Anyway, I just want to get back to the bus. It’s-” He sidesteps a few birds poking around their feet that don't seem to notice the hoards of humans among them. “It’s just too much right now. I might say something later, okay?”

He won’t though, and he knows it. He can’t seem to stop taking it out on Harry, so he’s probably better off just staying away from him as much as he can. That seems smart. He'd intended to try and give them a fresh start, but after today, he doesn’t see Harry trusting his sincerity. What exactly did he plan to say, anyway? ‘Hey, I eavesdropped on your phone call last night, and I want you to know that I’ve actually only been rude to you because I thought you hated me for no good reason, also your curls are distracting me from my work?’ Somehow, that doesn’t sound like a great start to anything.

The ride home is nearly silent, and Harry skips dinner, claims that he’d rather take a walk by himself. They help Katie pack up after they eat, and Harry doesn’t come back until they’re nearly finished. Katie invites him into her room with them, but he hesitates, accidentally looking at Louis.

Louis smiles grimly, knowing it’s his own fault. He stands, making room for Harry. “I have to go call my mum anyway.”

Harry protests right away. “No, it’s alright!”

Louis shrugs, already on his way out the door, ignoring the rush of heat to his face as he slips past Harry's taller frame. “It’s fine, really. Have fun.” He turns and leaves, but he doesn’t miss the Harry’s expression: a mix of grateful and upset. He hears laughter coming from Katie’s room later, though, so he’s sure they all managed to move past the awkwardness. It gives him extra time to catch up on twitter anyway, so maybe it was for the best.


	9. Chapter 9

Katie’s taxi comes to pick her up early Sunday morning, so early that after the boys wave her goodbye, they immediately go back to bed, sleeping in until it’s almost noon. Louis and Niall sleep in the latest, and it’s entirely possible that Niall only wakes up at all because Louis pokes him until he nearly smacks his head on the ceiling.

They blear at each other around the kitchen table over toast and an assortment of sweets. Harry looks close to falling asleep again.

“Should we even bother doing anything today?” Zayn asks. “It feels like a waste not to, but I just don’t know if I’m up for it, to be honest.”

Niall grimaces. “Let’s definitely not leave the village. I don’t know if I can take anymore time in a car squished up against one of you, no offense.”

Liam stretches, oddly alert compared to everyone else. “We still haven’t gone out to that old house past the football field. That’s an option. That way, we could still get back here in time for an early night if we want.”

Louis shrugs. “That sounds alright, I guess. Just promise me you won’t walk too fast and leave me behind.”

“We can’t help it if you have short legs,” Zayn teases, laughing at the glare Louis shoots at him. “Alright, yeah. We’ll babysit you, but if you drag your feet too long, you’re on your own.”

They set off soon after washing up, Liam leading the way. Harry trails along even slower than Louis, stopping constantly to take pictures of a wildflower or a sheep, but he manages to keep up well enough, only arriving at the house a couple of minutes after the rest of them. Niall and Liam are already over the gate, excited to explore the abandoned property. Zayn and Louis hang outside under a tree, too lazy to follow them in. Harry hesitates at the gate, clearly stuck between not wanting to trespass and not wanting to be stuck outside with Louis. Zayn notices his dilemma and calls him over.

“Harry, come sit with us. You don’t need to go in there and get covered in cobwebs like those two.”

Harry looks relieved (and secretly Louis is too), but still incredibly cautious as he carefully sits next to Zayn, as far away from Louis as he can manage without being too obvious. He braids grass stems together while Zayn starts a slow conversation.

“It’s too bad that Katie left. I think she probably managed to get more done than the rest of us put together.”

When Louis doesn’t speak, Harry says, “Yeah, she was quite good. Has she dug before?”

Zayn shrugs. “I’m not sure. I’m pretty sure this was her first time in this particular program, but I wasn’t here the first week, so I don’t know if she was a true beginner. Lou?”

Louis stares at the ground, playing with tiny white flowers. “Yeah, it was her first dig. She just caught on really quickly.”

Zayn shakes his head. “I just can’t be bothered to work like that. I like to dig, of course, but it’s not what I love. If I’m tired and my knees are sore, then Dr. Fielding’s just going to get half-assed work, with my apologies of course.”

Harry still hasn’t looked up from the grass in his hands. “I don’t know how much I like it yet. I think it’s really interesting, and I like the work because it’s physical labor, which always helps me clear my head, but I just don’t think I’m that good at actually digging. I always take my section a little too deep, and when Dr. Fielding found that piece of comb in the bone tray at the sieve station? I’m pretty sure that was my fault.”

Zayn smiles at him, reassuring. “We all mess up, even if we’ve done this before. And anyway, you’ve certainly got enough luck to stay on Dr. Slater’s good side, which isn’t easy to do.”

“Really? She seems so nice.”

“That’s because you don’t fuck around.” Zayn laughs, his eyes warm in the sunlight. “When Lou and I started here last year, the week that Niall showed up was chaos. Dr. Slater had him stay out of the trench for a few days and sieve everyone else’s dirt just so he couldn’t do anymore damage. It took a lot for her to let him back in. He’s good now, yeah, but it was a rough start.”

Zayn and Harry continue to talk easily, neither seeming too bothered by (or even aware of) Louis’ presence. He keeps his head down, passively listening as he runs his hands through the grass, only occasionally pulling his arms up when he sees a particularly grotesque insect. He only looks up when Liam and Niall come back over the gate, palms and faces smudged with dirt and dust.

Niall’s smiling widely as he plops down next to Louis, Liam sitting next to Harry. “It’s so cool in there, you’re all missing out.”

Louis wrinkles his nose in disgust. “I’m sure it was full of spiders. I’m good out here.”

Niall shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He leans back on his hands, stretching his legs out. “So are we all ready for survey tomorrow?”

Louis had nearly forgotten that they wouldn’t be digging this week. Instead, they were getting a crash course in the other elements of archaeology, namely survey and cataloguing. They would be measuring the fort and recording the landscape tomorrow, mostly under Dr. Fielding’s supervision. Later in the week, Dr. Slater’s teaching them to trace and draw artefacts, and then to photograph them. They’re set to start digging again next week.

Harry laughs a little, his face more relaxed with everyone back together. “I definitely am. I can’t be any worse at it than I am at digging.”

Liam nods. “It’ll be nice to spend most of the day standing, too. My knees have been absolutely killing me lately. I always forget about that part.”

Zayn agrees, “I know, I swore last year that I’d never dig again, but here I am.”

Louis can’t help but to feel a little neglected when Niall tries to bring Harry back into the conversation. “So, Harry, do you think you’ll come back next year? There’s just a few more sections of the fort to finish, and then they’ll have to move locations, so you’d better come back here while you still can.”

Harry shrugs noncommittally. “I don’t know yet. I hadn’t even been planning on coming here _this_ summer. It was kind of an impulse decision I made right before the deadline.”

Liam leans in, interested. Louis pretends to not be paying attention. “Really? What made you apply?”

Harry sucks in air through his teeth, smiling like he’s remembering something he doesn’t want to. “I had a really shit year at school, like just a really really awful time. I couldn’t imagine staying there for summer courses like I normally do, and I didn’t want to go home. This was one of the first travel opportunities that I saw, and I went for it.”

That’s actually how Louis had applied his first time, too. His boyfriend of nearly a year had just broken up with him over a text, and he felt too alone in the world to stay still where he was. He’d just needed to get out, to go anywhere. It was really only luck that he’d happened to learn of a program that also fit his academic interests. He keeps this to himself for the time being.

Zayn’s face twists in concern. “What happened at school?”

Harry chews his lower lip, stalling for a few seconds. “It was just really shit. I’m not really someone who usually has a lot of friends anyway, ‘m a bit shy, but I had this good friend, Charlie. I’ve known them since we started at uni together, but things just felt off this year. I, um, I couldn’t hang out with them much because I was working and they weren’t, and they kind of slowly quit talking to me. I tried to fix it and all, but it just never went right again. Like, I know that this just happens, but it felt strange, and they didn’t seem to care very much when I asked them about it. And, just, that’s happened to me before, so it. It was pretty rough.”

Oli. That’s the other name Harry mentioned when he was on the phone with his mum. That must have been who’d done it to him before.

Niall looks like he’s ready to either cry or go kill someone in Harry’s name. “That’s shit. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you?”

Harry shrugs, pretending to not care. “I don’t know. I don’t blame them, really. I just seem to have a hard time making people stick. I’m too much for them, I think. It’s alright, honestly.” It's clearly not alright. 

Niall’s heartbroken look doesn’t leave his face, and truthfully, Louis feels the same way. He understands that he doesn’t actually know Harry well at all (and that they haven’t much liked each other since they met), but he doesn’t seem like a bad guy. He’s always volunteering to help carry extra equipment, to run rock buckets for the others while he’s up, and he always shares his sunscreen with Niall. Louis tries to conjure up images of him actually doing anything truly irritating during the past week, but all he comes up with is Harry talking to the calves, genuinely listening to Dr. Fielding talk about his interest in archaeology, and rushing to clean up the locker room after a muddy day. What’s wrong with that? The only thing Louis actually holds against him is the bucket of water, but even he can admit that he deserved it.

Liam nudges Harry’s shoulder playfully. “Well, you’ve got us. We can’t  _technically_ stick around once the summer ends, but we’ll keep in touch after, yeah? And we mean it, we won’t just say that we talk but only send a couple of messages. Zayn and I talk all the time, and we live fairly far from each other.”

“Really?”

They keep talking and find out that Liam and Harry only live roughly 40 minutes from each other. Louis doesn’t volunteer it, but he does the math in his head and figures that he doesn't live too far from Harry. He doesn’t know what to think about that.

Zayn sneaks a cigarette as they laze about under the tree, soaking in the air and the sun. It’s peaceful out here amongst the plants, no cars or advertisements or anything to disturb the gentle quiet surrounding them. Niall talks them into playing truth or dare after a while, but it quickly turns into just ‘truth or truth.’

“Louis,” Zayn calls. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” As if there was another option.

“Alright. Um, who do you want to be in charge of the tarp now that Katie’s gone?”

Louis laughs. “That’s an awful one, but I’m sure it’s going to be Liam. It certainly won’t be Niall. I wouldn’t hate doing it, just so Dr. Slater will stop having me walk it down the middle.”

He picks next, kicking Niall, who of course, picks truth. “Okay. Did you actually sleep at all the night of the spider incident?”

Harry looks at Niall curiously. “The spider in the shower?”

Niall shakes his head in horror, reliving both experiences. “Nah, mate, it was worse than that. I’d tell you about it, but it was properly shameful, for all of us I think. And to answer your question, Louis, no I did not. That’s why I faked sick the next day. I slept in your bunk after you left.”

Louis pretends to be scandalized, chuckling at Niall’s honesty while Niall forces Harry to tell a truth. “Harry! Did you or did you not have a little thing for Katie?” Louis thinks he will die if Harry says yes. 

Harry looks confused but not offended, quickly shaking his head. “No, definitely not. She was nice, obviously, but I think we just got along well. She’s really not my type.”

“You don’t like blondes, is that it?” Niall fakes indignation. Harry laughs, eyes flashing up at Louis before he lowers them again and answers.

“No, I much prefer brunettes.”

Louis’ heart pounds in his chest, and he’s sure that he’s just imagining what just happened. None of the other boys seem to notice, moving on with the game like nothing strange had occurred. Is he losing it? Louis thinks he’s noticed the strange back-and-forth tension between Harry and himself. Harry had tried to be friendly that one day with the hand warmers and the rock buckets, and Louis’d tried to be warmer yesterday, but they seem to keep cycling back to being cross with each other. Is today just another stage in the cycle, and will Harry go back to hating him tomorrow? Or did Louis actually hallucinate the quick glance that Harry had shot him?

He’s losing it. Yeah. He’s definitely overthinking this whole situation, and he doesn’t see it getting clearer anytime soon.


	10. Chapter 10

Survey is rough. The week starts out alright on Monday, a beautifully sunny day. They’re sent out to another smaller structure on the property to record the landscape before tea. It’s a nice break from digging; they essentially get to stand around in a field, looking out at the surrounding hills, trees, and other features, writing what they see into little notebooks. Louis only steps into the nettles once, which he considers a victory.

After tea, Dr. Fielding pairs them up to measure their smaller fort. Niall accidentally volunteers to pair himself with Dr. Fielding, making him the odd man out. Liam and Zayn get put together, leaving Harry and Louis to deal with their weird tension over a meter stick and notebooks.

They don’t speak much more than they have to at first, only saying anything at all to announce the length of something they’ve measured. Louis snaps photos of Harry standing with the meter stick next to everything they record so that they have a visual to refer to later in the week when writing up their reports. Louis tries not to think about how the sunlight makes Harry’s curls glow in golden streaks or about Harry’s biceps in his t shirt, letting his tattoos truly see the air for the first time. Instead, he tries to focus on coming up with ways to show him that he’s not actually a complete twat, despite how their first week of knowing each other had gone.

After lunch, he finally works up the nerve to try something. Harry’s sketching out a stone path, Louis pretending to do the same when he breathes away the shakiness in his chest and says, “Have you read anything else by Joyce?”

Harry looks over, perplexed, before he goes back to his sketch, apparently not as scared of Louis as he had seemed when they first met. “I’ve read about half of A Portrait of the Artist.”

Louis hasn’t read that one. “I tried to read Ulysses, but I could hardly figure out what was going on.”

“You’re clearly an expert on The Dubliners, so I’m sure you managed with Ulysses.” Harry shuts his notebook and walks off to examine what may have been the entrance to the fort. Louis tries not to bite his tongue off, overwhelmed with frustration and residual embarrassment from having been caught talking shit. He follows Harry to the possible entrance.

“Are you a literature student?”

Harry turns to look him directly in the eye this time, his face and voice steady. “You don’t have to try to be nice to me because of what I said yesterday. I’d prefer if you just treated me normally.” He walks off again, and Louis only follows when Dr. Fielding notices him standing alone. He doesn’t try to talk to Harry again, not even when he ends up next to him on the bus later. Harry laughs easily at dinner, seemingly unaffected while Louis feels even more like shit.

Dr. Fielding separates them Tuesday, switching up the pairings so that Louis and Niall work together while Harry and Zayn studiously reexamine each section. They begin to take measurements for the 3D model of a structure that Dr. Slater will render on the computers later. Niall isn’t the most helpful partner, but neither is Louis. He’s too distracted by Harry’s occasional rolling laugh, the flex of his biceps when he pulls his hair up. Harry doesn’t appear to even notice Louis anymore, his confidence not seeming to dip at all, his voice not quieting even when they end up next to each other at the pub that night.

On Wednesday, they finish up their recordings and move inside after lunch. Dr. Slater shows them how to use the programs preinstalled on the classroom laptops to manipulate the 3D images of the structure they’d been observing inside the fort. Harry’s eyes don’t fall from Louis’ gaze anymore. Instead, they seem to look through him entirely, not seeing him at all. Louis grows quieter, telling Niall to piss of when he asks what’s wrong.

Harry’s sudden confidence takes a hit on Thursday when Dr. Slater leads them in a crash course for tracing and illustrating artefacts. They all start out with arrowheads, and Harry has to start over three times. He’s visibly frustrated, especially when he’s only got half of a stone axe done by the end of the day when the rest of them are mostly finished with their varying objects. Louis notices his shoulders sag when Dr. Slater holds up Zayn’s depiction of a piece of ceramic, possibly from the outside of a pot. He wants to do something, to reassure Harry or even just distract him, but he knows that’s not welcome.

Louis and Niall stay in after the pub, supremely tired, while the other three go out to visit the horse down the road. Louis kicks Niall’s mattress incessantly from where he lays beneath him, bored and incredibly restless despite his exhaustion. Niall peeks down, brow furrowed. “I’m not shutting the window for you again. It makes much more sense for you to get up seeing as you don’t have a ladder to deal with.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “No, that’s not it.”

Niall’s face relaxes. “Is it Harry?”

Louis looks away, setting his jaw. Niall clambers down the ladder despite his earlier statement and shoves in next to Louis. “Have you tried apologizing and explaining anything to him?”

Louis huffs, “No, I haven’t. I tried to talk to him when we were paired up for survey, but he wasn’t having it. He’s made it pretty clear that he’s not interested in being friendly with me.”

“Are you possibly so bothered because you want him to be _more_ than friendly with you?” Louis shoves Niall, who only cackles and cuddles in closer. “I wouldn’t blame you, mate, he’s quite fit, as far as I’m able to tell.”

“Why would I want that? He’s been rude to me just as much as I’ve been rude to him.” But Louis does want that. He just has no idea how to get there when he’s fucked it up so immaculately right from the start.

“I won’t say I haven’t noticed. I thought he was just shy when he first arrived, but there really is something off between you two, isn’t there?”

Louis stares at the bottom of Niall’s empty bunk, trying to figure it out. “I know I’ve earned most of it, like with the bucket he dumped over me, but I just can’t figure out what started it. It felt like he hated me from the first night he showed up, but he’s got on so well with everyone else. Am I just repulsive and I don’t know it?”

Niall grins. “Only when you don’t wear socks.” He ducks away from the hand that comes up to slap at him, laughing. “No, honestly Lou, I don’t know what it is. As far as I can tell, it just seems like loads of miscommunication. I think you’re only going to deal with it by talking to him about it directly.”

Louis groans. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

Niall pauses, more serious in tone now. “I think it could also be because you clearly know what you’re doing here, and he’s still a little insecure. He’s down about the drawing stuff today, you know. He told me that he doesn’t feel like he should be here, like his spot should have gone to someone more experienced.”

Louis’ reaction is immediate. “That’s nonsense, this program is specifically designed to help beginners.”

“That’s what I told him, but I don’t think that made him feel any better.”

Louis goes quiet, trying to think of anything that might make Harry feel like he belongs, but he comes up blank. It’s alright, though, because the boys return soon. Zayn walks in behind Liam and Harry and throws Louis’ charger at his head. “Heads up, lovebirds.” Louis flinches away and lets Niall catch the charger with his ribs, laughing at his pain.

“This is why no one wants to be your friend, Louis,” Niall teases between bitching.

“I’m just paying you back for laughing at me when Harry drenched me,” Louis responds, successfully shoving Niall out of his bunk this time.

Harry’s eyes raise at the mention of his name, and Louis’ face goes still when he’s met with the clear grassy green surrounding his pupils. Harry furrows his brow a little, looking back down at his book. Louis tries to ignore the feeling of blood rushing through his body at twice the usual rate.


	11. Chapter 11

It’s dreary outside on Friday, switching between mist and a light drizzle that’s deceptively powerful, managing to dampen their clothing just as they enter and exit the bus. They’re finishing up survey and photography today, and everyone’s bundled up. Harry looks cozy in a navy jumper and tight jeans. Louis wants to curl up next to him and tell him to stay, that he’s good enough to be digging at the fort and that he shouldn’t doubt himself. Instead, he leans into Zayn’s shoulder on the bus and dozes, only forcing himself fully awake once Ellen’s driven off.

Dr. Slater has them put the final touches on their drawings before tea. Louis tries to ignore the distressed look on Harry’s face as he rushes through finishing his stone axe, clearly unsatisfied with his own work. Thankfully, after tea, they’re sent back outside to record observations in the main fort without Dr. Fielding’s assistance. They work independently, standing (mostly) quietly in the mist and trying to protect their notebooks from becoming too damp. Louis writes things down, but his mind wanders. He looks over at Harry, who’s now got his boots and a rain jacket on over his jumper. He feels defeated.

They stop into the locker room before lunch to shed their muddy boots. Harry tries to clean the bench a little before heading into the cafeteria, and Louis changes into an extra shirt he’d brought, reveling in the feeling of dry fabric. They’re the last two out of the building. Louis holds the door for Harry, who mutters a quiet thanks. They walk over together in the thickening rain, only startled out of their silent standoff by Dr. Fielding’s voice.

“Boys! You’ve got to go see the sheep. A lamb’s just been born about 30 minutes ago.”

Harry looks elated. Louis is confused. “It isn’t lambing season?”

Dr. Fielding shrugs. “I suppose no one told the sheep that. You two go on, I’ll go inside and get the others.”

Louis looks at Harry, shrugging. Harry tries to keep a cool face, but he’s clearly excited, his pace quickening as they follow the path to look into the sheep’s pen. He’s leaning over the fence with an unabashed smile by the time Louis catches up. Louis looks out, squinting to find the lamb amongst the dreary landscape and the countless other sheep. Finally, he spots it standing shakily behind its mother, and he can’t help but to also smile. “Alright, that’s fucking adorable.”

“Isn’t it?” Harry seems too happy to remember that he doesn’t like Louis.

The rain picks up, the lamb pressing itself to its mother for warmth. Louis vaguely notices Harry’s teeth chattering, and it’s only then that he remembers that he’s holding an umbrella. He considers it for a few seconds before stepping closer, lifting the umbrella to also cover Harry’s taller frame. Harry looks at him in surprise before letting his eyes follow the lamb again. “Thanks.” His voice is quiet.

“No problem.” Louis pretends to not feel static all over his skin and an electric pulsing in his veins. He resists the urge to lean into Harry.

The other boys still haven’t come out, so they remain outside, cocooned in their pleasant umbrella-lamb-rainy world. Louis’ head feels clear for the first time in two weeks. He feels safe enough to try talking to Harry again, pretending that they’re normal people without anything standing between them being friends.

“It’s a nice way to end the week.”

Harry nods, not looking at Louis, as if doing so will remind him who he’s talking to. “I think I needed this after how shit I was yesterday.” His confession is quiet, like he doesn’t even realize he’s said anything.

“I doubt that you were actually shit.”

Harry shakes his head. “Trust me. It was pretty awful.”

“Can’t be any worse than mine. I gave up and drew a happy face on my bone pin. I don’t think Dr. Slater’s going to approve.” He hadn’t, but he wants to say anything to cheer Harry up.

Harry laughs a little, making Louis’ chest tighten. “I don’t think she will, no.”

The lamb and the mother sit down against the far wall, blocking the worst of the rain from hitting them. Louis feels good, finally feels like he’s actually making progress with Harry, so he continues blindly, searching for more words just to get them out there between them.

“At least you didn’t have the chance to snap any more bones this week.” It’s supposed to be a joke, because that’s Louis’ default, but it falls flat. He hadn’t really meant to say it, but his mind and mouth seem to disconnect whenever Harry’s around. He doesn’t hear himself immediately, only feeling his mouth shaping words, any words he knows that will keep their conversation going, but he registers what he’s said when he sees Harry flinch.

Harry had been told to clear his section fairly quickly while digging last week, and in doing so, he’d troweled too hard over what appeared to be a bone from something’s limb. It had broken (which happens to everyone at least once when they’re starting, especially with more fragile bones), and Dr. Slater had caught it. She’d been kind in telling him how to avoid doing so in the future and had watched him gather each piece, but Louis knew how embarrassed Harry’d felt. He’d felt that exact shame the year before when doing the same thing.

Louis looks up and sees the crushed look on Harry’s face, his heart sinking in dread and regret. He fucked it up again.

“Harry,” he starts, but all Harry does is give him a tight smile and back up.

“Thanks for sharing your umbrella.”

Louis wants to run after him, but the boys are finally coming, and his mind feels overloaded. He wants to apologize, but he also wants to give Harry space because that’s what he seems to want. As a person who often feels overcrowded, Louis wants to respect that, even if he doesn’t know that it’s the right move right now. He wants to ask Niall what to do, but Niall’s so excited by the lamb that he doesn’t want to pull him away. He ends up stuck, clinging to the back of Zayn’s jacket just for something to hold onto as he watches Harry walk away. This one, he’s apologizing for, no matter how much he hates doing so. He’d love to sweep it under the rug like he’s been trying to do with everything else, but he can see he’s struck a nerve. He needs to fix this, and he will. Just-not right now. Later. After they eat.

Harry’s quiet at lunch and they all fall silent during the photography lesson, Dr. Slater directing them to work on typing up their reports while they’re not at the camera for a short individual lesson. Louis types gibberish and tries to catch Harry’s eye, but Harry doesn’t look his way at all. He avoids Louis in the locker room while they’re gathering their bags up for the weekend, and he makes sure to sit away from him on the bus. By the time they’re cycling through the shower (to warm up today, rather than to rinse off filth like usual), Harry still hasn’t looked at him once. He’s talking to the other boys, but his voice and smile are strained, and Louis knows that they can see it. Niall looks at Louis with questions, but all Louis can do is shrug guiltily, knowing what he’s done.

It’s Friday, and there’s a footie match, meaning that the pub is packed and that the boys all want to stay and watch. Louis normally loves football, and he genuinely wants to hang out, but at some point, he notices that Harry’s slipped away. Concerned, he tells Liam that he’s heading out, looking around in the dark night for any traces of the curly-headed boy. He’s not under the tree out front, and he isn’t looking over the fence at cows in the back, so Louis checks inside, looking in the common room first. When he isn’t there or in the kitchen, he goes upstairs, finally checking their room.

Harry’s coming out as Louis starts to go in, and they nearly bump together. Harry tries to look away before Louis can see, but it doesn’t work. He catches the glassy eyes, the red cheeks, and the bitten lips. Harry’s visibly upset.

“Are you-”

Harry moves to shove past him. “I was just going to get my charger.” They really need to work on their habit of leaving their chargers downstairs.

Louis blocks the doorway. “You’re upset.”

Harry keeps his eyes away. “I’d really rather not discuss this with you.”

“But it’s my fault.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

Harry’s eyes are going even more watery. He wipes at them, sniffing just a little. “Alright, yeah. Just a little bit.”

Louis steps inside the dark room, not bothering to flip the lights on. The streetlights make the objects in the room just barely visible. He clicks the door shut behind himself. “Will it help if I apologize?”

Harry’s face crumples minutely just before he brings his hand up to cover his mouth, his voice cracking over tears, “No, because I’ll still be shit.”

Louis acts instinctively, no thought behind what he does. He pulls Harry into a hug just like he does with his sisters when they come crying to him over scraped knees and hurt feelings. Harry’s much taller than them, of course, but Louis still rushes to take care of him. He just wants to help him, shushing him lightly.

“You’re not shit, Harry, not at all.”

He guides them so they’re sitting on Zayn’s mattress, the one closest to the door. He pulls Harry in to let him cry on his shoulder, not at all hesitant about their sudden closeness or the fact that they’re not supposed to like each other. “You’re not shit. I swear. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, I was just talking without thinking. I’m like, the king of putting my foot in my mouth, I promise. Ask Niall. I do it to everyone. I really didn’t mean it.”

“You were right, though.” Harry’s voice comes out unevenly as he tries to stop crying.

“No, I wasn’t. Everyone messes up out there. I broke bones last year. I think I actually broke a comb last year. It happens. I know it sucks to be the one who did it, but it could have been worse, and it’s really not the end of the world. There’s so much animal bone out there anyway, they’ll have so much else to work with. And it looked like you got all the pieces out instead of accidentally mixing them into the dirt! That’s impressive, honestly.”

Harry sniffs, unconvinced and still distressed. “It’s not just that, though. I keep fucking everything up. I can’t dig fast enough, or I’m digging too deep. I can’t draw, I keep stepping in nettles, I’ve probably knocked over the sieve station more times than the cows. And I can't stop pissing you off.”

Louis wasn’t expecting to hear that last part. He sits up straighter in surprise, facing Harry to look him in the eye. “What do you mean?” He knows what Harry’s referring to, but he still doesn’t understand how Harry thinks it’s his fault when Louis’ the one who keeps doing things that are actually irritating.

Harry wipes at his eyes, looking too far gone to even be embarrassed about what he says. “I just keep messing it up. I know that I’m like, the most obnoxious person in the world and that you don’t like me, so I keep trying to leave you alone, but I always end up bothering you again when I don’t mean to.”

Louis is so confused. “What-Harry, you’re not obnoxious, first of all, but secondly, I thought _you_ hated _me_. That’s why I keep trying to give you space. That, and I can’t seem to stop acting like a dick around you.”

Harry shakes his head hurriedly. “No, I don’t hate you! I mean, you’ve said some things I didn’t exactly appreciate, but I just didn’t understand why we didn’t seem to click like with the other boys and Katie. I figured you just weren’t interested.”

Louis is so genuinely baffled. “I really didn’t mean to make you think that. Just- that first night, when you first arrived, everything was so busy, and I couldn’t seem to get a word in. The others were all excited, and honestly, I was just tired and a bit cranky from being out in the rain all day, so I figured we’d talk the next day, but we didn’t.” Because Harry kept avoiding his eye, Louis remembers.

“I figured you just weren’t that into having another person around.”

“I promise that wasn’t it. I don’t even know where this got off so wrong, Harry. I seriously thought that you didn’t like me. You wouldn’t even look at me for most of the first week.” Harry doesn’t answer.

Because Louis is someone whose first reaction is to get angry when he gets anxious, it can be harder for him to recognize different signs in other people, like the rapid breathing that Harry’s got going on right now, and the hands that keep coming up to wipe at his face, leaving rapidly fading white stripes on heated pink skin. It only clicks when he notices the bunk moving slightly from Harry rocking back and forth minutely, just barely noticeable. He crosses his legs and reaches out to hold Harry’s hands still, ignoring the alarm on his face.

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not mad or anything.”

Harry looks away, looking like he’s (unsuccessfully) trying to hold more tears back. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I get like- I’m sorry. Sorry.” He’s shaking his hands even in Louis’ grip, trying desperately to fidget.

“It’s alright, don’t apologize. You’re okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answers, but he’s so clearly not okay. “I’m sorry. I swear, you can go, or _I_ can go, and um, I’ll calm down. You don’t have to, like, you don’t have to help.”

“No, it’s okay. I get like this too. Well, it usually looks different, but still.”

“Yeah?” Harry’s eyes are locked on him, holding his gaze for the first time all night.

“Yeah, absolutely. I get so fuckin’ pissy when I’m all worked up. That’s why I snapped at you when we were on that trip into the city, y’know. There were so many people, and I’m not really a fan of crowds. I was trying to hold it together, but it just got to be so much. Sorry for that, by the way. I should have apologized sooner.”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

Louis shakes his head. “It’s not, though. I’m really shit at apologies, but I owe you a few. For that one, and for talking shit about The Dubliners. I was just being shitty and jealous because you were finding things and I wasn’t. I’m competitive to a fault for sure.”

Harry looks the tiniest bit more settled, possibly just because he’s distracted. “Is that why you sprayed me with the hose?” His voice is still crackly, but he sounds more put together.

Louis laughs. “No, that was a genuine accident. I really didn’t mean to do that, but you got me back for it pretty good anyway. It was fair, by the way, I deserved it for being a shithead earlier.”

Harry smiles a little, the movement barely visible on his face. “Oops.” It looks like distracting him is working. Louis just has to keep it going.

“Harry,” he says after debating his decision for a moment, “do you want to hear a story that I think might cheer you up?”

Harry shrugs noncommittally, but his face reveals his interest. Louis smiles at him.

“This is one of our most shameful moments, so you can’t tell the others that I told you. I’ve been sworn to secrecy, but I think it’s time for you to know. This is...,” he inhales dramatically, “the story of the spider incident.”

Harry giggles quietly, his hands already stilling. Louis lets go of them so he can use his hands to gesture wildly as he spins his tale.

Louis begins his theatrical rendition of the spider incident. “Long ago, perhaps two weeks before you arrived at our doorstep, we had a spider problem. It was mostly those spindly ones, you know, the kind that are always in the kitchen. They were everywhere up here, probably because someone,” he coughs Liam’s name, “kept leaving the windows open. Anyway, we got back from digging, one day, showered, ate, and came back here fully intending to get a full night’s rest.” He shakes his head like he’s horrified in reflection. “Little did we know.”

Harry’s smile is fully visible now as his mind focuses on the story Louis is telling rather than on his own worries.

“I got into my bed, ready for some much needed peace and quiet, and my darling friend Niall began to climb the ladder to the bunk above me. However, he refused to climb all the way up, instead hopping back down to the floor and informing us that there were 6 spiders dangling just above his bed. We all looked, and there actually were 6 spiders. Niall refused to get up there again, scared that they would crawl into his hair. Liam has an unnatural fear of getting in the top bunk at all, so he was useless. And Zayn, well. Zayn is too pretty for spider hunting.”

Harry giggles, setting Louis’ skin on fire.

“I, being the shortest and the bravest, obviously, was elected to defeat all 6 of the spiders. I kissed my loved ones goodbye, except for Liam who hadn’t brushed his teeth yet, and climbed into Niall’s bunk, trying to not knock into the spiders. Once up there, I needed supplies, so the boys passed up a shoe, some hairspray, and an empty cup, because they are _useless_.”

Louis doesn’t know that he’s ever felt happier than he does right now, watching Harry watch him tell some ridiculous story.

“I managed to get three with the shoe, but then there were two left who were in just the wrong spot to be smashed like the others. I took Niall’s advice and sprayed them with the hairspray so they couldn’t move, or so I thought, and went to gather them in the cup. The boys were watching, of course, and the suspense was killing them. When I neared the 5th spider, it lunged out at me, and we all shrieked so loud that Katie texted us and told us to quiet down. I came back down from the bunk and had to be promised many things before I would go back up. After Liam promised me first shower for a week, I braved the spiders yet again. This time, I got the smaller one in the cup, and I tossed it out the window, only I forgot to hold onto it, so I accidentally tossed a spider cup onto some innocent locals.”

Harry laughs, face lighting up. Louis wants to kiss him.

“There was just one spider left, and we were down a weapon. I sprayed it again for good measure, just to be sure, and tried my best to get it with the shoe. However, I accidentally swiped it rather than smashed it, and it went flying onto the floor right in front of Niall. By this point, we were all so tense that we all started screaming our heads off, and Mary came over from the pub to make sure we weren’t being brutally murdered, and she had to take the spider for us. It was truly, deeply embarrassing.” He grins. “And then apparently Niall didn’t sleep at all that night anyway.”

Harry’s face is still red, but now it seems more likely to be due to laughter, not tears. Louis feels proud in having successfully gotten his mind away from the spiral he’d been falling down. “I see why you were sworn to secrecy. That’s pretty bad.”

Louis shrugs, swinging his legs out to dangle over the floor next to Harry’s. He pretends that they aren’t sat hip-to-hip, and that he’s not hyperaware of their thighs pressed together. “We haven’t had as many spiders since, except for that one in the shower, so word must’ve gotten round that a highly skilled spider assassin lives here.”

Harry’s face falls a little. “I’m sorry for snapping at you about the spider in the shower. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You absolutely should have. I laughed at you, it was completely fair. And that spider was massive, so you were right to be terrified.”

Harry shrugs one shoulder, looking down. “Yeah, but…I don’t know. I just hate that we got off to such a bad start. I really feel like it was my fault.”

“It wa-”

“It was. You’re right, I kind of accidentally ignored you. I imagine that must have looked like I hated you, so I don’t blame you at all.”

Louis is stunned. He hadn’t expected Harry to admit to ignoring him. “Well, you should blame me at least 80% because I was being a twat. But why wouldn’t you look at me?”

Harry thinks for a minute, then wrinkles his nose, shaking his head lightly. “It wasn’t anything. I didn’t have a good reason.”

Louis presses forward, determined now to finally understand what had gone so wrong. “No, really. I want to know. Was it because I was covered in mud when you first met me?”

Harry laughs. “No, definitely not. That doesn’t bother me at all.”

“What was it then?”

Harry bites his lip, hesitating. He looks up and out into the room, decidedly not at Louis. “You can’t laugh at me.”

“I would never.”

“That seems untrue, but alright. I…” Harry shuts his eyes like it pains him to admit it, “thought you were really attractive. Like, you were intimidatingly hot.”

Louis wants to smack himself to make sure this is reality and not some beautiful dream. Had Harry with the chocolate curls and toothy grin and big arms just called Louis hot?

“Wait, past tense?”

Harry huffs a laugh, looking at Louis this time with amusement. Their faces are already too close. “That’s your question?”

Louis doesn’t know what to say, so he just blinks, not knowing how to handle Harry for the first time all night. Harry’s face relaxes a little, into a sort of excited warmth.

“No, not past tense.”

His voice is low, and he smiles into it when Louis leans forward to press their mouths together, Harry meeting him easily like he knew exactly how they were made to fit together. Harry’s breath is warm and sweet, and his lips are just a little salty, probably from his tears earlier. Louis wants to stay here forever, blanketed in the darkness, safe in the bedroom without anyone else. Harry’s hand cups his jaw, and he has to hold back a shiver at the feeling of their skin meeting. It’s overwhelming, a sensory overload. Harry is all that he can taste, smell, hear, and feel. He wants to keep it like this, wants to stay overwhelmed.

They break apart after a few moments at the sound of the boys’ voices coming from downstairs. In just a few minutes, their secret haven will be shattered by noise and light, and the world won’t be theirs alone anymore. They jump up from Zayn’s bed like they’ve already been caught, moving to stand farther apart. Louis goes to flip the light on since that’ll make it seem less weird when the others join them, but just before he reaches it, Harry’s pulling him in for one last kiss, and his heart feels like a balloon. He’s not convinced that he won’t float away.

Niall shoves the door open with no consideration, finding Louis and Harry relaxed in their respective bunks, Harry on his stomach with a book and Louis will headphones in his ears. He frowns. “Glad to see you skipped the match for something much more interesting.”

Their eyes meet over the top of The Dubliners, and Louis wants to paint the smile in Harry’s eyes so he can never forget how perfect it is.


	12. Chapter 12

The cozy safety they'd built in the dark last night is shattered by bright sunlight in the morning. Louis wakes up much earlier than he'd intended to due to Niall dramatically flopping around in the top bunk, trying to cover his eyes and chase those last few dregs of sleep. They're going out to one of the islands today, so he'd have to get up soon anyway, but he chooses to lay on his creaky mattress and pretend that his body isn't sore and achy, dreaming of the half hour of sleep that Niall's just robbed him of.

It isn't until his starts to wake more completely that he remembers the events of the previous night. His skin tingles with the memory, the feeling of a kiss a ghost on his lips. It seems preposterous how quickly they'd gone from being something like enemies to making out in the absence of the other boys. Louis hides a grin in his pillowcase, creaking one eye open to subtly glance over at Harry's bunk.

Harry's awake already, unsurprisingly. He's dressed, face washed and teeth brushed, working a little braid over his left ear as he listens to something through his headphones. Louis lets his eyes skim his long, nimble fingers as they work his glossy curls. He tries not to, but he glances at his lips, bitten in concentration. He wants to kiss the bite away, wants to put his fingers in Harry's hair and take care of him, letting him relax in the fragile morning silence while the others slumber semi-peacefully (Niall's still shuffling around, and Zayn's muttering nonsense at odd intervals). 

Liam's alarm goes off just as Harry's finished the braid and tugged it into place, and Louis uses the sound as a way to disguise the fact that he's secretly been awake for a bit. "Christ, Liam. Couldn't you at least pick a nicer sound? I hate waking up to that bloody beeping."

Liam, freshly awake and unbothered by Louis' cranky demeanor, only shrugs as he sits up. "I can't wake up to anything else." 

Louis beats him to the bathroom just for that, slamming the door in his face, almost definitely assuring that Zayn and Niall are now also awake. He brushes his teeth unhurriedly, staring down at the toothbrushes lining the shelf just by the sink. He knows which ones have been here and which is new, so he knows that Harry's is the bamboo one. His heart clenches a little, just at the idea of Harry brushing his teeth in this same space. Honestly. Louis should be committed. 

He finally lets Liam in after listening to him whine through the door. Zayn's fucking around on his phone, and Niall's somehow snoring again. Harry's got his headphones out now, and he looks up instinctively when Louis enters the room again. He glances down when their eyes meet, but Louis wishes he hadn't. He understands, though. Things feel different in the daytime. Maybe Harry regrets the kisses they shared in the dark. Maybe he thinks it was an impulsive mistake. Louis doesn't, and he hopes that Harry doesn't, but he wouldn't be too surprised if they went back to quiet civility, abandoning their very brief affair. 

Louis climbs up into Niall's bunk just to have something to do. Niall grumbles from the moment Louis' feet touch the ladder, blearily sitting up and glaring at him when he reaches the top. "Can't a man have a lie-in without all this nonsense?"

Louis beams, sufficiently distracted from the nervous twist in Harry's expression. "Absolutely not. How else would you know how much I care for you, Niall?" He tumbles into the bunk, knocking their limbs together. His knees and wrists are killing him. 

"If you loved me, you'd kindly fuck off, mate."

"Can't. I'm stuck up here now, like a cow. I can go up, but not down." 

Niall's quiet for a moment while he thinks. Louis can see him slowly working it over, waking up. "Can they really not go downstairs? What happens if they get upstairs? Do they have to be carried out?"

Louis shrugs. "I'm not a farmer. Ask John when we go back on Monday." He's not unhappy to glance over and catch Harry grinning to himself as he skims his book.

Niall kicks him out quickly enough, and they make a mess out of their luggage as they get dressed. Harry heads downstairs with Liam at some point, both talking about the sad lack of cereal in the kitchen cabinets. Zayn sleeps until Louis jostles his bunk as the bus appears at the end of the road, but he still looks like a model as he's climbing into the passenger seat only minutes later. Louis makes a note to kick him for his stupid good looks later on. 

Niall claims Harry for himself in the back seat, still mad at Louis for waking him up. Louis considers pestering Liam until they arrive at where they'll catch the ferry, but the bus goes so quiet that he chooses not to, listening to loud music through his headphones instead. 

He wants to sit by Harry on the boat, but he's scared of being rejected, scared that he'll be depriving Harry of space that he might be craving after their rather intimate connection the night before. Zayn snags the seat next to him anyway, leaning onto Louis' shoulder without even asking, and he's asleep within minutes. It's like a superpower, truly. 

The ferry ride over to the island takes about 40 minutes, so Louis ends up having an accidental nap alongside Zayn. He's only jolted awake by the sound of everyone standing up all at once, and his own movement wakes Zayn. The first thing Louis does is look out through the small window on his left, and he's met with the sight of Harry excitedly leaning over the railing, Liam fearfully clinging to his jacket to make sure he won't go overboard. Louis smiles to himself, pleased that Harry seems happier today than he has been these last couple of weeks. He resolves to not bring up the kissing incident until Harry does so himself, not wanting to disrupt his good mood. 

Once they've managed to get off the ferry, Liam and Niall immediately head over to a touristy bike shop that advertises tours of the island. Louis hangs back, not really eager to jump onto a bicycle with his aching knees and sore palms. Truthfully, he'd imagined the day being spent lounging on the beach or ducking through the little shops. He notices Harry rocking awkwardly on his feet, apparently also reluctant to join the bike tour. 

Zayn yawns, shuffling up beside Louis. "Are you going with them?" 

"I don't think so. I wasn't planning on actually doing much else today besides fucking around on the beach."

Zayn turns to ask Harry, who's awkwardly rocking on his feet. "What about you?"

Harry's voice is quiet when he answers, "Beach, I think." Louis' heart flutters. 

Zayn looks at Louis again, his face calculating as if he's figuring out that it might be kind to leave them alone. Louis loves Zayn for his perceptive abilities. "I guess I'm going on the bikes, then." Louis could kiss him, but he'll settle for thanking him later. 

It's a bit of an awkward trek down a path to find a more secluded patch of beach, but it's worth it for how beautiful Harry looks as he drops his bag and kicks off his shoes immediately to run into the shallow water, rolling his jeans up as high as they'll go. With no one around to serve as a distraction, Louis is forced to stare at his absolute glee, pure and unfiltered. It's almost blinding, but he can't look away.

He tucks Harry's bag and their shoes away near a rock to keep them safe before stepping out into the water a few feet away from Harry. The ocean is cool on his skin, leeching out some of his worries and carrying them away. The sand is soft under his feet, and he stares at it for a stupid amount of time imagining how much easier it would be to dig here rather than in the sticky clay material they're currently working with back at the fort. It's only the realization that Harry's walked out much further, the rolled ends of his jeans dipping into the water, that snaps him out of it.

"What are you doing?" 

Harry doesn't even bother to turn around when he answers, "Wishing I'd brought something to swim in."

Louis wades out a little further, still not daring to go out as far as Harry. "It's a bit cold for that, I think."

Harry's voice is more peaceful than it's ever sounded. "That doesn't bother me as much as it should. I like the shock of it." 

Louis leaves him be, retreating from the gentle waves to sit by their shoes on the sand, letting him splash around and soak in the saltwater. He's content just watching, lulled into an impossible sense of peace, so he's caught off guard when Harry suddenly turns around, closer than Louis had realized, and says, "Do you regret what happened last night?"

He almost swallows his own tongue. "Er, no? Do you?"

Harry shakes his head, but the troubled expression doesn't morph into anything calmer. "No. I just thought...I was overthinking it, I guess." The matter doesn't seem to be resolved for him, and Louis thinks he'd do anything to wipe the worry from his face. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry shrugs, starting to turn away again. "No, I don't want to bother you."

Louis sits up straighter. "You're not bothering me. Come and sit with me, and we can talk about it. No judging, I promise."

Harry glances at him doubtfully. "Are you sure?" 

Louis pats the space next to him on the rock he's claimed. "Quite." 

Harry joins him on the rock, letting his legs stretch out so he can push his feet into the sand. The wet ends of his jeans brush Louis' leg, sending thrills up his spine. Trying to ignore the feeling, he says, "So. What's on your mind, Harold?"

Harry rolls his eyes, but Louis catches the small grin before it disappears. "Nothing, honestly. It's just- things felt a little off this morning, and I wanted to apologize for making things weird."

"You...didn't?"

Harry shakes his head, refusing to hear anything. "I should've just left last night when you came in instead of pouring all my problems out in front of you. I'm a little embarrassed about it." 

"Harry, it was honestly fine. Most of your worries were my fault, anyway. I wouldn't have pushed you to talk if I hadn't genuinely wanted to listen. And I think it turned out more than alright in the end, or am I wrong about that?" His insides flood with sudden insecurity, worrying that Harry regrets opening up to him. 

Harry shakes his head quickly, as if alarmed. "No, you're not wrong at all! I just- I don't know. I don't want to keep going on about it, let's just leave it." 

"I-"

"So are you planning to go into archaeology professionally?" Harry asks, cutting Louis off to change the subject. Louis gives up with a sigh, going along with it because he wants Harry to feel comfortable above all else.

"I'd like to, but it's not realistic. I'm not a fantastic "outdoorsy" person in warmer weather, so I'm not suited for all digs, and I don't have the patience for recording artefacts and writing up reports. It's so hard to find a job from what I've heard, anyway. I'll probably stick with it until I'm forced to do something else, whatever that ends up being."

"You could help run field schools like ours, maybe."

He shrugs. "I'd probably enjoy that, to be honest, but I'm not sure that I'm someone who should be in charge of a bunch of students. I'm always riling my little siblings up and getting them into all kinds of mischief, and trouble  always seems to follow me,  _perhaps for a reason._ "

"You have siblings? How many?"

"Too many to count, honestly. At least 30." Harry giggles, making Louis' heart pound in his ears. 

"Is it hard being away from them all summer?"

"Yeah, especially the babies. It's kind of nice to be away at the same time, though. I feel like I can breathe a little easier when I'm not constantly swarmed by children." He sits up a little straighter. "What about you, do you have any siblings?" 

Harry nods easily. "An older sister. She's been living out of the house for a few years now, but I still miss her." 

"You're close, I take it?"

"Yeah, definitely. I was always tagging along with her and following her around, irritating the hell out of her, probably. She always let me, though. Mum always told her to be careful with me because I had such a hard time connecting with other people."

Louis' heart breaks a little. He leans forward to watch Harry absentmindedly trace pictures in the sand. "Why's that?" 

"Don't know, I've always just been a little awkward. I've always looked a little weird, and I'm a bit much if you've been around me too long, I think." He looks over his shoulder at Louis with a sad glimmer in his eye, oblivious to how he's shattering his heart. He smiles like he has no clue how sad his words are, and Louis thinks he might actually not be aware of it. "It's a good thing this is a temporary situation, right? Won't give you all too much time to get really sick of me hanging around."

And Louis wants to say things, things like  _you're not weird-looking, you're beautiful,_ or  _you're not too much,_  and _I promise I won't get sick of you,_ but it's far too early on to say anything so strong. They've only known each other for two weeks, and Louis doesn't want to scare him off by being too strangely intense. He can't just say nothing, however, so he settles for a weak smile and, "I doubt that we're going to get sick of you, Harry." 

They waste the day beautifully, running out into the ocean and retreating back to the beach to let the sun warm their skin. They talk when the wind doesn't swirl up and catch their breath, discussing music, books, and their lives at home (Harry  _is_ a literature student, just as Louis had suspected). Louis splashes water into the ends of Harry's hair, smiling too big when he's been caught. They skip lunch, seemingly forgetting the need for food. Louis feels enchanted, like he's been hypnotized into entering another world entirely, one that only includes him and this oddly beautiful, insecure, and devastatingly charming boy. He wonders if Harry feels it too, but he's scared to ask, scared to mention anything regarding the two of them separate from their group. He's not too scared to reach out and play with his hair, though, especially once he leans into it, and by some miracle, he's brave enough to fist a hand in his salty curls and pull him in for a kiss, chasing the rush of heat he'd felt the night before. 

It's immediate, and it's almost too much. This is the only way that Louis could ever understand Harry as being too much of anything- too hot, too wet, too indulgent. Overwhelming. He doesn't want to go back to the hostel or the fort, wants to stay on this island forever with this alienly intriguing boy. 

Harry takes control quickly, pushing Louis back onto the towel they'd laid out earlier, exploring his mouth almost reverently. Louis grips his waist like it's his last tie to reality, losing himself in the touch of their bodies. He feels crazy, chest heaving a bit as his mind attempts to keep up with Harry slowly working his lips down his jaw, his neck, biting gentle kisses into his collarbones. He's mesmerized by the slightest click of their teeth just before Harry softens the kiss, like he treasures this shared moment. He wants to do things that match the sudden insanity he feels, like asking Harry to marry him or at least to not forget him when the dig's over, but he doesn't dare interrupt their movement for anything. In the end, it's Harry who ends the kiss, pulling back with a somewhat bewildered look on his face, like maybe he hadn't been expecting them to get so carried away. His face clears with a quick smile to reassure Louis, who finally hears what had stopped Harry: the sound of a muffled alarm going off.

Harry pulls his phone out from his bag, shutting the alarm off. "It's nearly 5. We should head back if we want to go through any of the shops or anything before the ferry picks us up." 

Louis follows him dutifully, grimacing at the feeling of his sandy feet in his nearly ruined trainers, but mentally, he's gone, trapped back on the towel at the beach. He manages to pull himself out of his head very slowly, smiling at the trinkets Harry shows him in the shops, giving his opinion on which color of sweater is more practical, and holding his bag for him as he rifles through, looking for his wallet. The other boys find them in the shop, and Harry's stolen away from him again as Niall and Liam excitedly describe their day. Before he knows it, they're on the ferry again, and Niall's taken the seat by Harry so he can show him pictures of the seals they'd seen and the ruins they'd visited on the other side of the island.

From his spot between Liam and Zayn, Louis notices the sleepy slant in Harry's eyes, the warm pink on his cheeks where he'd gotten a bit too much sun. He wants to press his fingers to the color and feel the heat radiating off of his face. He settles for something more reasonable, unashamedly pulling Harry down to sit next to him on the bus and holding his hand like it's not a big deal. Harry snuggles into his shoulder a little, comfortable in the darkening evening while the other boys are oblivious in the front and middle seats.

His hand is warm, and his hair smells like the ocean. Louis feels more comfortable pressed up against him than he knows he should so early on, and he suddenly understands Harry's anxiety about being  _too much_ , because he's scared that what he's feeling is too much too soon, that he'll accidentally overwhelm the younger boy with how obviously he's captivated by him. 

The last thing he wants this to be is temporary. 

 


	13. Chapter 13

They sleep in like they like to on Sundays, but Louis wakes up a little earlier than usual, ditching Niall and Zayn's slumbering bodies to head downstairs. He finds Harry in the lounge, poring over his book, only looking up when Louis stands in the doorway. "Morning. Where's Liam?"

Harry shrugs, looking back down at his book. "Think he went for a run." He doesn't move to invite Louis over or to continue speaking to him, which would be worrying were it not for the slight wobble in his hand and the way that he sinks his teeth into his lip automatically as his eyes scan the pages in front of him. Louis's learning to recognize the signs of his discomfort, so he knows that Harry's probably just a little shy after their shared beach experience the day prior. He thinks maybe it's just taking Harry a little bit to warm up to him again after sleep separated them. No worries yet. Not big ones, anyway.

He pours himself a bowl of cereal and joins a german couple, the only other guests of the hostel at the moment, at the breakfast table for a polite discussion of the village's usually quiet, cosy feel contrasted to the excitement generated by the tournament everyone's following. The pub's been busier than usual, trying to accommodate everyone who's crawled out of the woodwork to come abuse their television privileges. It's fun, but draining. A calm, relaxing Sunday is exactly what Louis needs before they go back to digging tomorrow on top of all the craziness otherwise.

Niall clambers down the stairs when Louis's nearly finished rinsing out his bowl. He pops a slice of bread in the toaster and hooks his chin on Louis' shoulder, unmindful of his morning breath. "Mornin', sweetpea. Where the hell is everyone?" 

"Is Zayn not still sleeping?" Louis rests his bowl in the drying rack, successfully shoving Niall off his shoulder.

Niall pouts, leaning against the counter. "Nah, he's still asleep. Pretty sure he will be until we go over to the pub later. Where're Harry and Li?"

"Harry's in the lounge. He said Liam went for a run."

Niall raises his eyebrows suggestively, latching onto the opportunity to pry. "And how is Mr. Styles this morning, then? I couldn't help but notice that you two seem to be getting along better as of yesterday. Of course, I wasn't there, so for all I know, you two spent the whole day trying to drown each other, but you seemed a little too comfortable on the bus for that to be true."

Louis can't help but smile a little, but he twists the toaster's dial so Niall's toast will burn anyway. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I apologized, that's all, and he seemed to accept it."

Niall's tone shifts to something a little less playful as he swipes his toast out before it turns black, reaching into the fridge for the jam jar. "So you think digging will go smoother this week?"

Louis shrugs noncommittally, his face slowly dropping as he considers what it'll be like to dig with Harry now. It's one thing to wear filthy, unflattering clothing and get covered in muck in front of a boy you're pretending to hate. It's an entirely other thing to do so in front of someone that you want. What if he falls and busts his ass on a particularly slippy rock? What if he fucks up the tarp and ruins their site? It's a world of insecurity he's not used to, one he hasn't visited since he first arrived last year. 

"I think digging will be fine. Normal." He sips his tea to hide how small his voice suddenly seems.

Lucky for him, Liam arrives then just as Niall's shoving the remainder of his toast into his mouth. "Morning, boys. Zayn and Harry still in bed?"

"Harry's in the lounge, did you not see him when you came in?" Louis tries to hide his concern. 

Liam shakes his head. "Came in through the back. I was out by all those old houses down the road. I thought we could go see that old church today, if everyone's up for it, the one just past the tearoom? It seems silly that we've been here so long already and haven't checked it out. No pressure, of course."

Niall shrugs, already reaching for a fresh slice of bread. He looks to Louis as if asking his thoughts on the matter. "Could be fun."

Louis shrugs in return, not really wanting to make their decisions today. "I don't see why not." He looks to Liam, who's refilling his water at the sink. "Good luck getting Zayn out of bed, though." 

Liam scoffs. "I have to shower anyway. The noise should keep him up long enough to make sure he's really awake." He screws the lid back onto his bottle, gesturing towards the two boys with it. "One of you invite Harry, yeah? I'll shower and see what we can do about Zayn."

Niall heads straight to the fridge once Liam's gone upstairs, pulling out the egg carton. "Can you tell Harry? I need a proper meal before I do anything else today."

Louis nods, his chest fluttering as he toes down the hallway, grateful that the german couple left for their 'scenic countryside' tour so that they get full run of the hostel again at least for part of the day. He stares down at his bare feet, suddenly worried that Harry will judge him for not at least wearing socks, but it would be ridiculous to go all the way upstairs just to get a pair right now. He braces himself for Harry's cooler demeanor as he approaches the lounge, tries to prepare himself for the possibility of Harry pushing him away like he used to literally just two days ago. It already feels like a different lifetime to him, honestly. He can barely remember being cross with Harry, but it seems that nervous tension is the natural next step. 

Harry's still curled up on the couch, book in his hands, but he's watching a beetle on the other side of the windowpane rather than studiously reading. He turns to face Louis at the sound of him cautiously entering the room. "Hey." 

Louis takes in his careful face, purposefully still and nonreactive. Guarded. "Hey. How's the reading going?" 

"It's alright."

Louis nods once, perching on the arm of the chair closest to the door. "Glad to hear it. So, we're likely going to the church down the street in a little bit, if you'd like to join. You're more than welcome to, but don't feel like you must." He feels too stilted, too formal, so he tacks on, "Everyone needs a chill day sometimes." 

"Oh." He looks vaguely troubled.

Louis rushes to assure him that he's not hinting at not wanting Harry to join them. "Of course, we'll miss you if you're not there. I just didn't want to guilt trip you into going if you'd really rather not."

Harry looks slightly relieved, but he's still trying not to show any reaction at all. "That's okay. Um, I might come? I just really need to get this chapter finished today."

"Sure, that's fine. I'll uh, let Niall know." He turns to leave, trying to give Harry space, but he's stopped.

"Louis?"

He turns again to find Harry's face still cautious, still unsure, but newly open. "Yes?"

"You can stay in here if you want."

He's offering an in, and Louis definitely wants in. He tries not to seem too eager. "Can I use your charger?" It's the one time his is upstairs where it should be.

Harry gives a small grin, pulling the cord off the floor and handing it over when Louis plops down on the chair by the bookshelf. He ends up just dicking around on his phone while Harry returns to his book, but it's nice, just spending time together quietly after the uncertainty of everything leading up to this moment.

***

Liam's leading them through the church as they peer through misshapen windows and up through the missing roof. Zayn grumbles lightly under his breath with nearly every step, miserable that he's not still in bed, but Harry looks more at ease than he had earlier. Louis's trying so hard to give him enough space but not make him feel unwanted, and it's making his head spin a bit. Thank goodness for Niall, who's taken over Harry for a while, at least, trying endlessly (and mostly successfully) to make him laugh. 

His full Irish chuckle echoes around them as he relives his own stories. "And then Zayn pokes it and goes, 'what's that?' and Professor Fielding tells him it's a slug, and Z shrieks and flings it off his trowel onto Louis, who nearly had a fit!"

Louis hisses, "Niall!" while Zayn only shrugs at Harry's and Niall's giggles, cooly offering "I don't do slugs."

Harry twinkles his eyes at Louis. "What's your excuse?"

Louis tries not to look like he's been caught off guard, haughtily pointing his face in the air. "I'm a princess, and I'm not used to having _slugs_ thrown at me." 

Harry laughs at his theatrics, but Niall's soon got his attention again as they follow Liam into the main room, the size and elaborate carvings awing them into a collective hush. Louis studies the crosses on the stone walls, the years of weathering having eroded their shape. The arched window spaces, the dead language inscribed on the wall, the small inlets used for ceremonial purposes...he loves when he's startled into remembering why he's here, what he's studying. He would love to spend the rest of his life working on sites like this, unearthing and rediscovering history. 

He's too absorbed to notice when the others start bleeding out into the surrounding field of headstones, only really paying attention when he hears Liam's voice from farther away than he'd expected. Only Zayn and Harry are left inside with him, Zayn lazily heading for the exit with Harry lallygagging behind him, still carefully tracing the carvings in a cross with his eyes. Louis lingers, hoping for a stolen moment alone, but defeatedly moves to follow Zayn out when Niall calls for him and Harry.

"Lou! Harry! The craft shop's finally open, we're heading over across the street!" 

Louis's halfway through the doorway with Harry following close behind when he's stopped by a warm hand on his arm.He turns, and before he can wrap his mind around the idea of what's happening, his fingers are wrapped up in tight curls and warm lips are covering his own. It's much too brief, lasting only a few seconds because they're too close to getting caught. Louis dies a little inside when the sound of feet moving through gravel comes closer to them, forcing them apart. He can barely take in the slightly stunned look on Harry's face, like he can't believe he just initiated such an act between them. Lightheaded. Louis feels definitively lightheaded.

Niall pokes his head through the door, oblivious to the suddenly charged energy and to Harry's reddened cheeks. "She's about to close, but she said she'll keep it open for a few minutes for us to look around. Should we wait on you?"

Louis clears his throat, wishing he could also clear his head. "Yeah, we're coming. Come along, Harold," he says, trying to cover their damning behavior with a shield of humor, "Let's buy something pretty for your mum."

Harry does, in fact, end up buying some soap made with lavender and heather for his mum, quietly perusing the trinkets as he chooses something for his sister as well. Louis, having no interest in buying anything that he'll have to shove in his crowded suitcase later, wanders about aimlessly, fidgeting with toys and snow globes. 

 Until he sees something he knows he wants to give to someone. He pays for it after the other boys have gone outside again, messing about in the street while discussing everything they'd bought for friends and family back home. Louis slides his bag and change into his pocket, letting the shopkeeper finally close up for the day.

***

It's busy at the pub due to the tournament playing on both of their television sets, but Louis hardly notices. He feels floaty from the kiss still, and it doesn't help at all when Harry squeezes his hand under the table at a sudden chorus of shouts due to something devastating happening onscreen. He'd started the day worried that it was over before it truly began, but Louis thinks he's slowly catching on to a little of what Harry's going through, with the shyness and all. Maybe it's something deserving of a bigger word, 'anxiety,' like Louis feels in crowds and how Harry felt that night that they'd sat on Zayn's bunk, calming down together.

Maybe that's why he slips the worry stone he'd bought at the craft shop onto Harry's pillow later while he showers. Louis's asleep with headphones in before he can watch Harry's reaction, his body exhausted from the very idea of beginning to dig again the next morning. Even Niall tossing and turning in the bunk above him can't keep him awake.  


End file.
